


Burning Lives

by RubyLipsStarryEyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Auror Neville Longbottom, Best Friends, Dragons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Graphic Description, Healer Millicent Bullstrode, Healers, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Pizza, Second Chances, Serious Injuries, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27114841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/pseuds/RubyLipsStarryEyes
Summary: Milllicent is a Healer at St Mungo's who's become far too attached to a particular patient.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Millicent Bones & Susan Bones, Millicent Bulstrode/Charlie Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 56
Kudos: 38





	1. Eight

**Author's Note:**

> Charlicent is my OTP.
> 
> WIP, tags will be updated as I go!

Millicent glanced at the clock over the door. _Just ten more minutes_ , she chanted internally. She’d been there for over twelve hours already, and everything ached. She stood, shaking the sleeves of her healer’s robes down over her wrists, and stretched. She’d been charting for what felt like hours, though she knew it had been scarcely half an hour since Mr. Dorrell down the hall had summoned her for his water cup that she was relatively sure he’d knocked over on purpose to make her bend over for it. She’d foiled his plans by vanishing it with her wand and getting a new cup from the cupboard.

Before she’d even had a chance to stretch properly, the light flashed, signaling an incoming patient. She bit down a sigh, instead hurrying towards the door to meet the triage team.

She caught sight of a flash of red hair over the sheet. “--year old male, burns over his right upper extremity caused by a dragon--” She swore. _So much for ten minutes_.

Against all odds, the victim was awake, his clear blue eyes observing her as she cut the remnants of his sleeve away, and the orderlies assisted in replacing his ruined shirt with a hospital gown. “We gotta stop meeting like this, doc,” he said with a grin, and she ignored him, summoning vial after vial as they continued down the sterile- feeling hallway and into an equally sterile room.

“Well if you’d stop acting like an idiot and getting in the way of those fucking dragons, maybe we wouldn’t,” Millie snapped.

He tried to shrug, and winced at the movement against the angry, raw skin of his shoulder. “It was me or the new kid. At least I know what to expect.” Millie rolled her eyes. _Godsdamned Gryffindors_.

“And I suppose there was absolutely no way out without either of you ending up on my ward. _Again_.” She uncorked a bottle with rather more force than necessary, but placed it gently against his lips. He didn’t argue, probably because dragon burns hurt like hell, and swallowed the potion.

When the dark blue potion was gone, she removed the vial from his lips, and applied a copper-coloured cream to the edges of the burn, where the skin was charred and blackened. She could tell when the pain potion began to take effect, because the subtle tension in his shoulders began to relax, and he finally lay his head back against the pillows.

“Which was it this time?”

“Hebridean Black. How are your brothers?”

Millie snorted. “They’re… Surviving. And yours?” She worked methodically, covering the ruined skin bit by pain-staking bit. She hated this part-- the not knowing as she covered the wound if it would be too deep this time for the paste to work properly.

“Rambunctious as ever,” he mused, his voice softer now, with the pain potion slowing him down and the adrenaline receding from his blood. He’d sleep, soon. He needed it. But he always asked about her brothers. He’d been in school with them, and she’d been in school with his. But their paths had never crossed until the Scot Dragon Keep had opened, and she, a newly minted healer on the trauma team, had been tasked with her first dragon burn. She’d lost track of how many she’d treated now, but she knew with absolute certainty that she’d treated this man no fewer than seven times. Eight, if you counted tonight’s.

Millie careful dabbed the burn paste over his shoulder, knowing that just inches below was a magical tattoo of a Romanian Longhorn dragon, probably twisting and hissing in discomfort at being driven from it’s usual spot across his upper back and shoulder. The first time she’d met Diana, as he affectionately referred to the inked dragon, the Longhorn had snapped harmlessly at Millie’s fingers, making her jump and Charlie laugh through his haze of painkillers.

“Sorry Diana,” she whispered softly. “I’m trying. We’ll get you back where you belong before you know it.” His eyes were closed, but she could have sworn she saw Charlie’s lips turn up in a smile. She redoubled her focus on his arm, silently chiding herself.

She waved off the healer that had come to relieve her at six, insisting that she’d finish and go. But it was after seven thirty now, and he’d yet to open his eyes. She sat back in the chair normally reserved for family members or significant others, knowing that he’d likely not told his mother he was there. The one time he’d made that mistake, Molly Weasley had flown in positively screeching about her baby boy. It had taken Millie nearly ten minutes to get her to shut up long enough to hear that Charlie had already been discharged, and had floo’d back to his flat before she’d even shown up. Since then, everyone he worked with was sworn to secrecy if he was injured on the job. Apparently it hadn’t been a problem when he’d worked in Romania, because it was days before she’d even known he’d been injured.

Millie sighed, closing her eyes. She hadn’t had anything better to do tonight anyway, and she was worried about her patient. At least, that’s the lie she told herself.

A cleared throat had her opening her eyes, and she sat straight up, reaching for her wand to check his vital signs. They were all steady, normal. He watched with a bemused expression as she lowered her wand, and rubbed her eyes before looking to the clock. It was after ten now. She really hadn’t meant to fall asleep..

“Doc came in while you were asleep,” he told her. “Shouler’s healing fine and I’m good to go.” It was then she noticed the hospital gown had been replaced with a plain white vest, and a leather jacket was draped over his unburned arm. She nodded.

“Good. If you’ll excuse me.” She stood, intending on rushing out the door and potentially drowning herself in the locker room shower because she was positively _dying_ of embarrassment, but he was faster, stepping in front of the door, and blocking her way.

“Wait, Millie. Can I call you Millie?” He waited for her tentative nod before continuing. “Will you come to dinner with me?”

She blinked at him, confused at his request. _Did he mean NOW?_

“I mean, I know it’s late, but I’m starving and I’m sure you are too. You work long hours and you should have been home ages ago.” He looked earnest, his blue eyes luminous in the hospital’s fluorescent lighting.

“I-- That-- It’s not--” She stumbled over her words, at a complete loss.”You’re my patient,” she finally blurted. It wouldn’t be right.

“Technically I’m--” He paused, looking at the paperwork in his hand. “Healer Varma’s patient, but either way, I’ve been discharged, so I’m not really anyone’s patient now.” He flashed an impish smile, and Millie was again at a loss for words. “Come on,” he urged, and she caved, if only because her stomach was protesting loudly. She hadn’t actually eaten in… Fourteen hours now?

“Fine,” she sighed. “Let me go change.”

As she walked towards the staff locker room, she forced down the butterflies that had filled her stomach. _It was just because she was starving,_ she told herself. _It has nothing to do with him._ The lie burned, but it was better than facing the truth.


	2. Bad Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has bad timing and Millie doesn't mind until dinner is interrupted.

Millie hadn’t been expecting to go anywhere but home after work, but luckily she’d worn a dress to the hospital that morning, thinking it was simpler than trying to coordinate two pieces of clothing. She thanked her lucky stars as she pulled it back on after discarding her deep forest green robes. The floral material hugged her curves rather nicely, showing off the hourglass figure she’d rather hated in school. She’d worn flats, but after the day she’d had she wouldn’t have worn heels if she’d had the option.

Adolescence and Hogwarts robes had been unkind to her, but as she expertly pulled her dark hair into a twist and secured it with a simple charm, she had to admit to herself that she didn’t look half bad after being run ragged for twelve hours and sleeping in an uncomfortable chair for the last three. A swipe of eyeliner and coat of mascara later, she decided it was as good as it was going to get, and she pulled her handbag over her shoulder, tucking her wand away. 

She’d rather half expected the burly man to disappear rather than wait for her, but he was leaning casually against the reception counter when she exited the staff lounge. He was in the middle of saying something to the receptionist, a petite blonde witch that was incredibly sweet, if not very bright. He stopped mid-sentence though, his blue eyes growing wide.    
  
“What?” she glanced down, looking for stain or some kind of wardrobe malfunction that would explain his eyes turning into saucers, but she couldn’t find anything wrong. 

“I just-- I mean you--” He stopped, swallowing hard and glancing away, the tips of his ears turning pink. “You look really nice.” 

Millie felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She hadn’t thought she looked  _ bad,  _ but she’d never been pretty enough to make a man stumble over his words. Most of the time they saw her as one of the guys. “I-- uh-- Thank you.” She reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and caught the receptionist’s eye, who looked entirely too excited by the scene playing out. The blonde witch-- Millie thought her name was Brooke-- flicked her wrist in a “go on” motion behind Charlie’s back, and Millie shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Shall we?” 

“Yeah! I mean, yes.” Charlie’s ears were bright red now, and Millie found it to be incredibly charming. But then, he’d never shown a hint of shame all the times that he’d been stripped down for her to reach various burns, and in one memorable instance, a gaping gash from a dragon’s claw across the outside of his left thigh. She’d gotten a lovely view of his even lovelier arse, and some part of her had felt guilty for ogling her patient, but at the same time, she was only human. 

"Have fun," Brooke called after them, and Charlie waved. 

He held the door open for her, and as they stepped into the cool autumn air, he offered his uninjured arm. She wrapped her hand tentatively around his leather-clad bicep, and he tucked his arm tightly into his side. “Hold on,” he said with a wink, and then the uncomfortable sensation of being sucked through a straw had her squeezing her eyes shut. 

A moment later, and they were back on solid ground. Millie opened her eyes to find herself standing much closer to Charlie than she’d meant to. She stepped back, but he tightened his arm against his side again, clamping his opposite hand over hers. She looked up, startled, and met his eyes, bright in the light of the nearest street lamp. He wore an expression she couldn't interpret, but she didn't have to wait long for the answer.

“I lied," he blurted. "You don’t look nice. You’re gorgeous, Millie.” The pressure on her hand disappeared, but in her shock, she didn’t release him. “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the first time I saw you.” Had his blue eyes not been so open and honest, she would have laughed in his face and left. As it stood, though, she actually believed him. Heat bloomed across her cheeks, and she shook her head. 

“You’re mad. But I’m fairly certain I did tell you that the first time I saw you.” His face split into a wide grin at her teasing tone, and Millie couldn’t help but return it, albeit rather shyly. 

“That probably should have waited til after dinner,” he mused, “but I’ve always been bollocks at timing things right. Unless it involved a snitch.” A laugh escaped Millie, and she shook her head again. This was probably one of the weirder nights of her life, but she had to admit, at least to herself, that she was enjoying the unexpected turns it was taking.

“Maybe you should work on that timing thing. Maybe it means I’d see you less.”    
  
Charlie turned, and with her arm still looped through his, led her down the street. It was a wizarding street not far from Diagon Alley, but since the war had been an up-and coming area with a plethora of new restaurants and nightclubs.

“All you’re doing is convincing me that my poor timing may be my greatest strength here,” he teased lightly, and Millie snorted. 

“If you really want to see me, all you need to do is ask. I can guarantee it’ll be less painful than a dragon burn.” He pointed them to a restaurant that looked new, but she hadn’t heard of. 

“Noted. Do you like pizza?” He grinned at her, and she raised an eyebrow. 

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” Millie wondered for half a second if he’d mistakenly heard her say “here’s a million galleons, have fun,” because his face lit up like he’d won the lottery. He was so animated when he wasn’t in pain and drugged to high heaven, it was almost comical. But then she supposed knowing his younger brothers, it wasn’t  _ too  _ surprising. 

Releasing his arm as he reached for the door, she realized just how chilly it was, but she wasn’t sure if she’d been oblivious because she’d been too focused on Charlie, or because the man was a literal space heater. Maybe a bit of both. 

They were seated in almost immediately in a booth not too far from the kitchen, and Charlie looked over the menu enthusiastically. “I haven’t been here yet, but Gin won’t shut up about it.” 

“For good reason, it’s amazing.” A woman’s voice came from behind her, and Millie twisted in her seat to find none other than the Holyhead Harpy’s star chaser and Charlie's sister grinning over the back of the booth. And across from her sat none other than....

  
_ Shit. Shit. Shit.  _ Millie froze, pinned in place by Draco Malfoy’s steely grey eyes. 


	3. Knight in Shining Armour

Glad to see you finally made it over to the dark side! I told you the Slytherins were fun,” Ginny continued, her eyes sparkling.

“Didn’t you have a game tonight?” Charlie asked, ignoring her comment. 

“Yup! Won 270 to 10. Becker caught the snitch in less than forty-five minutes. Easiest win we’ve had all season.” 

“Pretty sure Weaslebee is still crying,” Draco added with a smirk. “How he can still support the Cannons with a record like that is beyond me.” 

Millie bit her tongue. A snide remark about loyalty wouldn’t go over well, given the circumstances. Nor would the observation the restaurant wasn’t anywhere near high class enough to see him in, even on a Wednesday night. 

“How are you, Millie?” Her neck popped as she jerked her head up to look at Draco, who was gauging her reaction with guarded eyes. She narrowed her own at him, determined not to give him any more of a reaction than she already had. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny frown, but she paid no mind to the other girl. 

“Fine.” She kept her voice even and cool, even as she lifted her chin defiantly, silently daring him to dig any deeper. Draco’s grey eyes flashed, and Ginny cleared her throat. 

“Well we were just leaving. Shall I tell Mum you survived again or are you going to?” 

Millie broke eye contact with Draco, turning resolutely away in time to see Charlie cringe. She giggled at the thought that Molly Weasley could scare the fearless dragonologist. 

“Well I’m not doing it again,” she said lightly. “Once was enough for me, thanks.” Charlie’s ears went pink, and Ginny snickered. 

“If you already survived Mum you’re already better than 99% of the dates he’s been on.” Ginny easily dodged the paper straw wrapper Charlie flicked at her, laughing. “Well if that’s how you’re going to be you can do it yourself. Don’t forget dinner is early Sunday and I expect a hell of a gift for covering for you for the last three. You’re coming, right Millie?” 

Millie raised an eyebrow, looking slowly back at Charlie, whose ears were now roughly the color of the tomato on the printed wallpaper behind him. 

“Darling, we best be off if we’re going to make the party at Marcella’s.” For perhaps the first time in history, Draco did something worthwhile and distracted the youngest Weasley, and she thankfully didn’t wait for a reply from Millie before standing from the booth. 

“She’ll kill me if we miss another so we gotta go but we’ll see you Sunday!” She waved, pulling Draco out of the restaurant with her, and Millie had the distinct impression that life anywhere near Ginny Weasley was akin to attempting to stand still in a hurricane. 

“Well. That was unexpected,” she said, still slightly shell-shocked by the abrupt entrance and departure of the unlikely couple. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how I missed them when we came in,” Charlie looked genuinely distressed, yet another side of him she’d yet to see, despite the number of times she’d seen him in what most would consider to be far more distressing situations that running into his famous little sister at a restaurant. “You can just ignore her. She thinks because  _ she  _ showed up one day with a bloody ring and fiancé in tow it means the rest of us can’t just have a girlfriend like normal people and—“

“Girlfriend?” Millie raised an eyebrow, and Charlie looked like a stunned unicorn, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. 

“I didn’t— I mean you— That's not— Not that I—“ she let him trip over himself for a few moments before she threw her head back and laughed. 

“I knew what you meant, calm down.” She was so amused by this suddenly very nervous man in front of her, that the waitress managed to sneak up on her, and made her jump. Then it was Charlie’s turn to laugh, and it was several moments before they could give the waitress their orders. 

Charlie was chatty, far more so than she’d realized he would be, but she found that he was easy company. He was sweet, funny, and surprisingly intuitive; he would have put some high-class purebloods to shame with his conversationalist skills. Before she knew it, it was long past midnight and the diners had shifted from later dinners to after party revellers. 

“Oh it’s late,” she gasped when she realized, and Charlie looked guilty. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you out. You probably have to work tomorrow and—“

“I don’t, and it’s okay. I just didn’t realize.” Millie tried to smooth it over, her face hot. 

“Off on a Thursday? That must be nice,” he breezed over it, waving the waitress over for the check. 

“Mr. Malfoy asked for your meal to be added to his tab, and to give this to the miss.” The waitress held up an envelope to Millie, who took it hesitantly. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know what he had to say, least of all in front of Charlie. 

He thanked the waitress, all the while watching her curiously. She tucked the note away in her purse, giving Charlie a bright, practiced smile. He was too polite to ask, and for that Millie was grateful. When he offered his hand to her, she took it without hesitation. 

“So, Miss Bulstrode,” he said as they left the restaurant, turning out onto the still-bust street, despite the late hour. “What does a lovely lady like yourself do on your days off?” He was fishing, and it was adorable how transparent he was about it. 

“Tomorrow I have several appointments and errands… but Friday through Sunday are all mine to do whatever I choose.” She could feel his eyes on her, and she shrugged. “It usually means I stay home. Sometimes I bake, sometimes I read. It just depends on my mood.” 

“You bake?” He perked up at that, and she laughed. “My parents were appalled when they found me in the kitchen with the house elves, demanding that I learn how to cook and bake myself. I think that was the summer before my third year at Hogwarts. Since then I think they’ve softened a bit. It helps that my brothers’ wives are absolutely useless in the kitchen and none of us keep house elves, except Eddy.” 

It was true. Edward, Albert, and Thomas, or Eddy, Bertie, and Tommy, respectively, had hopeless wives. Sure, they were nice enough, but Mille still got on better with her brothers than their wives. 

“That’s hilarious because I distinctly remember Albert spending most of our time in Charms grumbling that household charms were for house elves and witches.” 

Millie snorted. “I’d love to hear you remind him of that in front of Ellen. She’d hex the hell out of him and put him on diaper duty without magic for a month.” 

Charlie threw his head back, laughing with abandon, and Mille pushed down a satisfied grin. “If I ever see him I’ll be sure to do that, then.” 

“Just make sure I’m there to witness it so I can tell him I told him so.” Millie could have sworn her heart swelled when Charlie squeezed her arm gently, and she was disappointed that they were nearly to the apparition point. 

“Yes ma’am,” he told her with mock sobriety. “I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” 

“Yet you don’t seem to be afraid of getting on the bad side of a  _ dragon. Repeatedly.”  _

“To be fair,” he objected, stopping them in their tracks, “it was the new kid’s fault. I was just playing knight in shining armour.” He winked, and Millie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. 

“And yet I’m the one that saved  _ you.  _ Maybe you should work on your rescue skills,” she teased, and he grinned, blue eyes dancing in the light of the street lamp behind her. “Or maybe get new people that don’t require rescuing.” 

“If you’re not doing anything Friday… Would you want to come meet them?” 

“The new people not in need of rescue?” 

“Nah, I’m convinced those don’t exist. The dragons.” He looked so hopeful that Millie didn’t even consider her answer. 

“What time?” 


	4. Supplier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millie has a conversation with her flatmate and her supplier

When the door clicked shut behind her, she dropped her purse on the table, and finally let the smile that she’d been holding back free. Leo decided then was the best time to head-butt her shin, even as Misty wound around her ankle. Dropping to her knees, she gave her two cats scratches behind the ears. 

“Sorry I was late, pretties. Mummy had a date. You’d like him. He’s a lion too.” The orange tabby gave her a baleful meow, as if to tell her that he was the only lion allowed her affection. Tommy had given Leo to her when she’d passed her healer’s exams, and he did his best to live up to his name, following Millie around and hissing at everything that moved, as if he meant to protect her. 

Misty, in stark contrast, had been a gift from her parents after her first cat had passed away the summer before her third year of hogwarts. Truth be told, her grief over her cat had been what had driven her to learn to cook and bake. The grey cat had long, silky fur and rarely made a sound, preferring to move around her flat silently, lounging wherever she pleased. 

“You had a date? With a  _ Gryffindor? _ ” 

Millie glared at the figure in the doorway. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” 

“It’s nearly two! Aren’t  _ you  _ supposed to be in bed?” 

Millie snorted. “I don’t have to work tomorrow.” 

“Maybe not, but you’re a right witch when you don’t get enough sleep.” 

“Ha. Ha. Funny, Bones. Real funny.” 

“Oh come on Mills that was a good one!” Susan grinned at her, and wiggled the quart of ice cream in her hand. “I’ll share if you do.” 

Millie eyed the carton, weighing the offer. “Double fudge ripple?” 

“I’ll even throw in some of that salted caramel sauce I hid.” Susan’s eyes glittered in the low lamp light, and Millie sighed. 

“Only because you brought the caramel into it. And I think you’ve been spending too much time with me,” she complained, even as Susan did a happy full-body wiggle and headed toward the kitchen. 

“You love me,” Susan teased, and Millie rolled her eyes, following her and sitting at the small kitchen table. 

“I love ice cream and you exploit that as my supplier.” 

“Same thing.” Susan handed her a bowl of ice cream and the jar of caramel sauce before scooping some out for herself. “Now. Who’d you go out with? It’s not anyone from our year unless Seamus and Dean broke up because I saw Neville making goo-goo eyes at Pansy when they visited Frank and Alice on Sunday, and Merlin knows it would have been all over Witch Weekly if Harry or Ron were suddenly single... “ She took a bite of ice cream, then with her mouth full continued. “It has to be someone older. Oh!” She swallowed and waved her spoon at Millie. “Is it that quidditch player that was just traded to Falmouth from Puddlemere? Oscar- Owen?” 

“Oliver,” Millie supplied dryly. “And no, I did not go on a date with a Keeper.” She’d gone on a date with a  _ seeker.  _ The same one that Tommy had talked about in his letters nonstop for months his fifth year, speculating which professional team would sign him on… And then his outrage when he’d found out Charlie had left the country to work with  _ dragons. _ She smiled smugly into her ice cream. He may have been a seeker once, but he definitely wasn’t built like one any longer.

“What was  _ that  _ look for?” Susan looked entirely too excited for Millie’s comfort. 

Susan and Millie hadn’t been friends at Hogwarts. In fact, they’d driven each other mad when they’d been thrown together in their healer apprenticeships. Now, Susan was somehow not just her roommate and ice cream supplier, but the closest thing Millie had to a sister. Certainly the best friend she’d ever had. 

“What look?” Millie eyed the redhead coolly over her bowl, and Susan rolled her eyes. 

“That smug-arse cat with the cream look. Don’t play dumb with me, Bulstrode.” 

“You’re really no fun. Maybe you should go to bed,” Millie teased, and easily caught the hand towel Susan threw at her head. “He’s got some famous siblings,” she admitted, “But he seems to be the best of them. My brothers went to Hogwarts with him, and they liked him, despite the house rivalry…”

“Okay, and?” 

“And I like him. More than I should, but he keeps ending up in A&E and every time he does my fucking heart stops.” 

Susan’s jaw dropped at that. “A patient? But—“ 

“I fell asleep next to his bed this evening. Luckily it was Varma on, at least he’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Only because you scare the piss out of him.”

“It’s not my fault he’s an idiot and it happened to be me to catch that bleed.” 

“You could have been a bit nicer is all I’m saying!” 

“I also could have let that guy bleed to death, but I didn’t do that either.” 

Susan huffed. “Anyway. You fell asleep at his fucking bedside. Please tell me he woke you up like Sleeping Beauty.” Millie gave her a confused glance, and Susan rolled her eyes. “We really gotta do that Disney marathon. Sleeping Beauty was a princess that was cursed and woken by true love’s kiss from Prince Charming.” 

“There is literally not a single curse that can be reversed with a kiss.” 

“It’s a fairytale!” 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Killjoy.” 

“Sap.” 

“ANYWAY. I take it Prince Charming  _ didn’t  _ kiss you to wake you up.” Susan pushed her empty ice cream bowl away, looking expectant. 

“No. He was very nice and offered to take me to dinner.” Millie sniffed, doing a rather excellent impression of some of the pureblood women she’d known… Which reminded her. “We went for pizza at that new place down the Row… and you’ll never believe who we ran into.” 

“I’m going to bet it wasn’t the dragon from  _ Sleeping Beauty,  _ so please. Enlighten me.” 

“You’re not far off. It was a dragon of sorts. A rather pathetic one.” 

Susan blinked, trying to work through what Millie wasn’t saying, and Millie took the opportunity to finish off her ice cream. 

“A drago— Oh  _ no _ . Please tell me it wasn’t  _ him.”  _

“Right in one. Want a biscuit?” Millie snorted. “He’s dating Prince Charming’s sister. Engaged, actually if I wasn’t hearing things.” 

Susan's jaw dropped rather comically. “YOU WENT ON A DATE WITH A WEASLEY?!” Susan slammed both hands on the table, making their empty bowls clatter. “You give me  _ that much shit  _ for my hair and then YOU FALL FOR A FUCKING WEASLEY?” She burst into laughter, squeezing her eyes shut and doubling over. 

“Oh my god. Hold on, hold one. Which one?! The curse breaker? Or one of the twins? Please tell me it wasn’t that prefect that used to think he was so sneaky with what’s-her-face Ravenclaw.” She dissolved into another fit of giggles, and Millie glared at her while she laughed. 

“Okay. PHEW. Okay. Which one was it?” 

“Just for that, I’m not telling you. Nighty night!” Millie smirked at her friend’s dismay, scooping Misty from the back of the sofa as she passed on her way to her bedroom. She set the cat gently down on the bed, and turned to face the mirror over the bureau. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her cheeks eyes sparkled just thinking about her little secret. 

_ And she’d be seeing him in two days.  _


	5. Enchanté

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millie can’t go anywhere without bumping into a Weasley. Or four.

Millie stepped out of the apothecary shop, the bright sunlight reflecting off the white marble of Gringotts momentarily blinding her. Blinking against the glare, she checked her watch. It was just after noon, and besides a cup of tea before coming to Diagon Alley to run a series of errands she’d been putting off for— well, rather longer than she should have— she hadn’t eaten anything. It had only been a couple hours and she had the most pressing errands done, and now it was just the more enjoyable ones left, but she was starving. 

Mentally tallying her to do list in her head, she decided that lunch could come first, before popping down to Flourish and Blotts and Madame Malkin’s or Twilfitt and Tatting’s for a new set of black robes. There was a small cafe just across from the apothecary that she liked, and it had been far too long since she’d had one of their chicken salad croissants. 

She strode across the street, and placed her order before taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables, closing her eyes against the warmth of the sun. It had been too long since she’d just sat and enjoyed the moment, and she took her time eating, watching the steady ebb and flow of the patrons of the various shops and stores. 

She was nearly finished, her plate cleared and savoring an espresso when she watched a vaguely familiar blonde woman with an equally blonde little girl walking purposefully towards the bank at the end of the street. The little girl broke free from her mother’s hold as she watched, sprinting towards the great steps leading to the intimidating gold-leaf doors, and leaping into the arms of a red-headed man with a shrieked, “Daddy!” 

A second redheaded man joined, and Millie’s heart jumped. She was just close enough she could pick out his voice from the crowded street.   
  
“What about me,” Charlie asked the girl, looking hurt. The girl reached out from where she was perched in her father’s arms, and his face broke into a big grin as he took the little girl and swung her around, the little girl disappearing in a blur of pink and golden blonde. Millie felt as if she was intruding on a private moment, but her heart melted at seeing him with his niece. Still holding the little girl, Charlie started down the steps alongside his brother, meeting the woman at the street.    
  
Millie panicked internally when the trio turned towards the cafe, and quickly snatched an abandoned copy of  _ The Daily Prophet  _ from a nearby chair. She was relatively certain he hadn’t seen her watching, and she definitely didn’t want him to think this was anything more that it was- a coincidence. A very, very nice coincidence. 

She noted it was at least a copy from that morning, and flipped through it idly, all the while watching them draw nearer in her peripheral vision. She was content to let them pass by unnoticed, but when they were about two metres away, the toddler began to babble excitedly.

“Oui, ce sont les fleurs,” the woman responded in French, and Millie realized with a start that  _ that  _ was why she thought she looked familiar. Fleur Delacour had been the Beauxbatons champion during the Triwizard Tournament. She was married to the oldest Weasley now, though she couldn’t quite remember his name. She knew the younger ones better. 

“No, Victoire, let the nice lady--” 

“Millie?” Charlie cut off his brother, and Millie looked slowly up from the paper, and met Charlie’s startled blue eyes. The toddler in his arms threw herself towards Millie, catching him off guard. Millie reacted instinctively, standing and reaching for the child, but Charlie had a firm grip on her legs, leaving her dangling and giggling. Millie knew she must look terrified because Charlie hastily flipped her upright, and put a stabilizing hand on her back. “Sorry. She does that a lot.” 

“She likes your dress,” Fleur offered, gesturing towards Millie. “The flowers.” The woman still had a strong French accent, but it wasn’t as strong as Millie remembered, though she supposed it had been nearly a decade since she’d last seen the woman. 

Looking down, Millie realized the flowers the little girl had been talking about were indeed the bright purple blooms printed over her wrap dress.

“Violette,” the little girl chirped, and Millie nodded. 

“Oui, les fleurs sont violette.” She addressed the child rather than Charlie. She felt as if her brain was short circuiting, but the little girl with her wide blue eyes (what was this, a Weasley Special?) and bouncing blonde curls was easy enough to please, because her eyes lit up, and she reached for Millie. Millie smiled at her, but kept her hands folded securely in front of her to keep from instinctively reaching for her. She reminded Millie of her nieces, but she didn’t want to be rude. 

“Millie, this is Bill and Fleur, and their daughter Victoire. Guys, this is Millie. The one I was telling you about.” Millie carefully hid her surprise that he’d been telling his brother and sister-in-law about her. When had he had the time? 

“Enchanté,” Fleur offered, and Millie nodded her head politely. Bill-- that was his name-- raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Millie said politely in English, fighting back the heat that crept up her neck. 

Fleur switched back to English at a nudge from her husband. “Charlie didn’t tell us you were French as well.” 

“I’m not,” Millie interjected quickly. “My mother insisted we learn to speak it, but I think I’m the only one of my family to keep up with it.”

“Hmm.” Fleur cocked her head, and Millie remembered all too clearly how she’d felt about the girl in school. She felt wholly inadequate, but Fleur gave her a conspiratorial smile that could have come straight from the Slytherin common room, and she relaxed incrementally. 

“Oxfordshire, isn’t it?” Bill grinned, and she was thrown off guard once again. Her surprise must have shown, because he shrugged a shoulder. “ Eddy was in my year and he was bloody unbearable when Tutshill lost to Portree our sixth year. Kettleburn nearly gave him detention when he wouldn’t shut up about it and nearly got gored by a unicorn. He still a Tornados fan?” 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he bled blue,” Millie said wryly. She immediately liked the eldest Weasley, but then he reminded her of an older version of Charlie. Charlie, who was currently looking like Christmas had come early, and only had eyes for her. Victoire took the opportunity to pitch herself towards Millie again, but was once again thwarted by his hold on her legs. 

The little girl giggled like mad, and Millie smiled, shaking her head. “She’s fearless, isn’t she? I wonder where she gets that.” She shot a sly look at Charlie, whose ears turned pink, but his grin screamed pleasure at her gentle taunting. 

“Her favorite uncle of course,” Charlie fired back, and Fleur laughed. 

“Do not let the others hear that again. Molly is still cleaning potatoes from the ceiling, I think.” Bill and Charlie laughed, and Millie smiled. Perhaps Charlie’s family wasn’t as intimidating as she’d been led to believe; they honestly reminded her of her own brothers, and Fleur had a better sense of humor than either of her sister in laws. 

The thought of Caroline laughing about potatoes on the ceiling was laughable in and of itself, and she had yet to figure out what Eddy saw in her, but after a decade they seemed perfectly content, so Millie let it be. 

“If you want to hang on to the monster and take a moment to flirt some more, we can order for you.” Bill and Fleur were gone before Millie could even comprehend what he’d said, and Charlie’s ears went from pink to red again. Apparently his family could fluster him faster than anything else, and Mille allowed him to collect himself as she watched the little girl sit straight back up in his arms, an impressive display of core strength. Then she surprised Millie again by reaching out for her. 

Millie couldn’t resist the sweet dimples any longer. 

“May I?” She motioned towards Victoire, and Charlie passed the little girl over to her after a moment’s hesitation. “Ta robe est très jolie!” She tugged at the lacy hem of the pastel pink dress she wore, and the little girl chattered in French back to her, but Millie was only half listening. She couldn’t decipher Charlie’s expression, and she felt supremely self conscious, as if she’d done something wrong. 

“What?” Millie shifted her weight uncomfortably, settling the little girl on her hip. 

“I just.. I mean you…” Charlie gestured at them, but then shook his head sharply. “She’s usually really shy when she first meets someone. She still doesn’t like Draco, but you—“ 

“I can’t say I blame her, really. I don’t like him either,” Millie interrupted. Charlie looked surprised, and Millie belatedly realized how harsh her tone was. “Sorry. I just— We don’t get on. Never really have.” She turned her attention back to the little girl in her arms, who was fingering the intricate links of the chainmaille necklace Millie wore. 

“I guessed as much last night, but then he left you the note and I thought there might be some history—“ He stopped himself, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.” 

Millie shook her head. “We were housemates, but that was the extent of it. We ran in different circles. I didn’t even open the note. I didn’t see the point.” Which was true. The note was still in her handbag. She hadn’t mentioned it to Susan on purpose— the Hufflepuff would have sniffed it out and opened it before Millie could have said “wait.” She didn’t particularly want to find out what Draco had wanted to say to her after all these years. Too little, too late, as they say. 

Charlie looked curious, but again was too polite to ask. “Well she really likes you.” He gave her a bright smile, and stepped a bit closer, reaching to tug on one of Victoire’s blonde curls. She batted his hand away without blinking, as if she was used to it. 

“Well we’ve already established she’s a good judge of character now haven’t we? I wouldn’t expect anything less if you really are her favorite.” If Susan had been there, she would have positively swooned at the bright smile Charlie gave her, but thankfully it was just the two of them and his niece, who was still tracing her necklace with chubby fingers.

He nodded at the  _ Prophet _ , still open on the table. “I heard the Ministry was—“

Millie never found out what Charlie had heard about the Ministry, because the street behind him erupted into chaos. 


	6. Hearts Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic scene ahead. 
> 
> Charlie sees Millie in action

Working with dragons meant you _never_ ignored a warning shout. 

It was pure reflex to turn and draw his wand while simultaneously casting a shield charm. He was grateful for his reflexes when a hex shattered around his shield in a shower of chartreuse sparks. There was a gasp behind him, and as he reached blindly behind him, relief coursed through him when his fingers met the silky fabric of Millie’s dress over her hip, and tiny, chubby fingers closed around his wrist. 

He kept his eyes on the street, trying to take in what was happening. Figures in scarlet robes were descending on two figures at the base of the steps leading towards the doors of Gringotts, and multicolored jets of light flew from all directions. He spotted Gringotts’ security force in grey joining the aurors, but it looked like the two fugitives were getting desperate, their spells increasing in intensity and no longer being aimed at just the aurors.

Bystanders were scrambling, sprinting away from the standoff, some crossing directly through the line of fire. Charlie watched a blonde girl get hit with a violet spell that exploded around her violently; she dropped to the ground and stopped moving. One of the aurors across the way collapsed, and Charlie watched Bill rush forward towards the fray. 

“Millie! Take Victoire and go!” He squeezed her hip and released her without looking back. He followed on Bill’s heels, throwing up shields to protect the fleeing bystanders from the wayward spells being thrown by both sides. Most were clear now, but he stopped where Bill was kneeling over the fallen auror, who sat up, looking dazed. Charlie deftly blocked another curse, and the auror scrambled toward where his comrades were closing in on the two criminals, and around two others. Bill approached an elderly man next who was bleeding profusely from a gash across his head, just over his ear. Charlie stood at the ready to block any more hexes, but all four seemed to be disarmed. 

When no more jets of light lit the street, he finally chanced a look back, searching through the crowd. He spied Fleur first, cradling a crying Victoire to her chest, tears streaking down her face. Both looked unharmed, and he was relieved that Millie had reached her, if she had Victoire. But Millie wasn’t with them. His heart pounded, fear shooting through him. 

“Millie?” he called, looking around again, hoping he’d just missed her. Maybe she’d apparated away before they’d gotten the anti-apparation charms up. “MILLIE!” He yelled again, knowing the charms had gone up before they’d known anything was amiss. He searched out every flash of purple, looking for her dress, a flip of her glossy black hair,  _ anything.  _ Panic built, and he gripped his wand tighter.   
  


The street was loud with shouts coming from all around him, but a piercing scream had him raising his wand as he searched for the source. Bodies littered the ground, but none of them sported the purple flowers of Millie’s dress. 

  
“I need a medic!” It was her voice. Cutting through the pandemonium, he knew it was hers. He looked back over the street, and there he found her, on her knees next to the blonde he’d watched go down before. He watched as an auror joined her, and the girl thrashed on the ground. 

Pushing through the crowd, Charlie’s heart hammered, and his only thought was to get to her. Had it been her to scream? 

He drew closer, and he could hear her. 

“Hannah! Look at me! No! Look at me!” It was the same voice he’d heard her use at St Mungo’s; authoritative and demanding to be obeyed. 

Charlie edged closer, and the blonde on the ground thrashed again, sending droplets of something flying. “Hannah stay still!” Millie was working her wand furiously over the girl, flashes of light and bright blue threads criss-crossing over her skin—

Charlie watched in horror as what he’d thought to be her skin oozed over the magical threads. It looked like fresh-coloured wax, melting down the side of a macabre candle. Then she jerked her arm from the auror’s hold, and a swath came away, leaving red muscle and white ligaments exposed, even as it drained through the auror’s fingers. 

She screamed, the sound reminding him of the last dying sounds of a cow as one of his dragons ripped it to shreds before consuming it; a last desperate cry that tore vocal chords and echoed in the following silence. 

She flailed again, and more droplets— drops of her  _ skin,  _ Charlie now recognized— flew free, splattering across Millie’s face and over the brick wall of the apothecary behind her. It felt as if his body had been plunged into an icy lake; he couldn’t move, not to raise his wand or to turn away. All he could do was watch Millie’s wand fly over the girl— Hannah— as her skin liquified. 

Hannah screamed again, but it was quieter, and Charlie knew that she was fighting a losing fight. Her skin had run off into  _ puddles  _ around her, leaving exposed muscle tissue and bits he couldn’t identify. Millie redoubled her efforts, and threads of white joined the royal blue, weaving around her like twine around a roast; that’s what it looked like, now. Pink and red muscle pressed against the threads, and Charlie was relatively sure he’d never look at his mum’s pork roast the same again. 

“Hannah come on,” Millie begged, and Charlie’s heart shattered. “You can’t leave Sue and Ernie! You’re not done yet, Han! FIGHT!” Drops fell from Millie’s cheeks, and Charlie wasn’t sure if it was remnants of flesh or tears, or some nauseating combination, but her despair was the magic key that unlocked his limbs. 

Red pooled along with the waxy white, and Hannah’s movements were reduced down to mere twitches. Another cry escaped her, but it was hoarse, broken. “Hannah you can’t leave!” Millie screamed, but even as Charlie hit his knees behind her, Hannah fell still, her eyes wide and unseeing. 

Somehow her face had been mostly unaffected, and in her stillness, Charlie finally recognized her. She’d been at the final battle— had taken up arms, cried, and celebrated alongside them. His stomach churned, but he pushed it aside, reaching for Millie’s hand. She fought his hold, blue and white threads still pouring from her wand tip. 

“Millie she’s gone! Let her go!” Charlie locked his arms around her, wrestling her away from Hannah’s devastated body. The Auror that had been attempting to hold her down just stared, shell-shocked. 

“I can’t let her die,” Millie cried, and the raw pain in her voice hit Charlie like a charging erumpent. 

“She’s gone,” Charlie repeated, and Millie crumpled in his hold. He pulled her into his chest, burying his hand in her hair. 

He wished more than anything that this moment was different; that the warm, spicy scent of her hair wasn’t accompanied by the coppery tang of blood and death. He knew that this moment was going to change everything, and he just hoped to Merlin that this wouldn’t be the moment she thought of if he ever held her again.


	7. Support

Millie had  _ never  _ lost it like that after losing a patient. But then, Millie had never lost a patient that she’d known, let alone in such a gruesome manner. Millie didn’t like Hannah, but she hadn’t deserved an ending like  _ that.  _

Her chest ached from holding in the sobs that threatened to break through, and her lungs burned because she couldn’t take a full breath in. Grief and shock were quickly overwhelming her, but two hands kept her tethered to the moment. 

Two rough, strong, impossibly gentle hands supporting her against a broad chest that housed a thundering heartbeat. She reflexively counted each beat, listening as it slowed the longer they sat there on the cold, unforgiving cobblestones. She could hear the chaos around them, but something inside her whispered that if she stayed where she was, maybe she’d wake up, and it would all be just an awful dream. 

“Is she hurt?” A woman’s voice with a thick French accent brimmed with concern, and Millie opened her eyes to find Fleur looking worried, Bill holding a still-crying Victoire a ways behind her. 

“No,” she tried, but her voice cracked and her chest ached, threatening to release her anguish in a torrent. The woman didn’t look convinced, and motioned for them to follow as she turned back towards her husband and child. Millie didn’t see any reason to argue, so she tried to stand. Unfortunately her legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate, and she stumbled. It was only Charlie’s quick reflexes that kept her from hitting her knees, and she couldn’t even find the strength to protest when he swept her into his arms. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than his niece had, and he didn’t appear to have exerted himself when he sat her down in one of the chairs at the café. 

The smell of coffee replaced the smell of blood in the air, and Charlie continued to support her, despite the fact that she didn’t strictly need it. A soft blanket was wrapped around her shoulders by Fleur, and she nodded her thanks, the gesture of kindness enough to push her over the edge. Millie made no move to stanch the flow of tears that flowed unobstructed down her cheeks. 

“I have to tell Susan.” Her voice sounded hoarse and broken. “Hannah was supposed to be in her wedding with me next month and now—“ Millie squeezed her eyes shut. Now Susan’s wedding day would be shadowed by the death of her oldest friend. 

“Who’s Susan?” Charlie’s voice was gentle, and it threatened to tear Millie apart. 

“My roommate and my best friend. She’s like a sister and this is going to--” Her voice broke, and she took a shaky breath in, trying to steady herself. “Susan’s family was killed in the war. Hannah and I were all she had, until Ernie won her over.” 

His arms tightened around her, and she leaned into his chest, biting the inside of her cheek until it drew blood. “I’m so sorry, Millie.” It was the genuine sadness in his voice that broke her, and she clawed at his shirt, desperately trying to hold on to the last shreds of her composure. 

“Constables said Fleur and I could go, but they need statements from you both about…” Bill’s calm, steady voice trailed off, and Millie felt Charlie nod. “I’m sorry, Millie, but thank you for getting Vicki out safe.” Bill’s voice caught, and Millie felt a new hand on her shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. She straightened, and saw the tears that had gathered in Bill’s eyes, above golden curls. Victoire's face was buried in his chest, and Millie felt an aching longing for her own father. “If there’s anything Fleur and I can do, please let us know. We’ll forever be in your debt.” 

She shook her head sharply. “It was Charlie.” 

Bill smiled slightly. “I’m already in his debt a hundred times over. And Fleur already told me what you did.” He turned his attention to his brother, allowing her to wipe away the tears that clung to her face and ruined her makeup. “Take care of her. We’ll see you Sunday, but our floo’s open if you need us.” Charlie nodded again, and Bill retreated down the street, holding Fleur tightly against his side, Victoire’s chubby little arms locked around his neck. 

Millie stayed in the circle of safety that was Charlie’s arms until an auror in black robes with red lapels approached them. He reached out a hand to shake Charlie’s hand, and Millie took a step to the side, breaking off the majority of contact with him, except the hand that still rested on her lower back. 

“Nev, it’s good to see you.” Charlie said, and Millie did a double take. 

“Sorry it’s under these circumstances,” Neville Longbottom replied, and Millie had to clench her jaw to keep it from hitting the pavement. The tall, broad-shouldered sergeant in front of her was a far cry from the classmate she remembered. She’d known he’d started dating Pansy Parkinson last year, but their conflicting work schedules meant that they had kept missing each other at parties and get-togethers, and the photos in the  _ Prophet  _ clearly hadn’t been doing the man justice. 

“We’ll have to go for a pint when things settle,” Charlie agreed, and Neville turned slightly to keep an eye on the street. 

“Constable Romero said that you two assisted with Han-- With Miss Abbott.” He remained businesslike, but Millie heard the anguish underlying his words. 

“I did everything I could,” Millie whispered, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Charlie’s arm tightened around her again, and Neville nodded grimly. 

“I know. We just need a detailed account to--”

“I’m familiar with the process,” Millie interrupted. “I can provide a written account and memories, but please can it wait? Susan--” A lump formed in her throat, and it took her several moments to clear it. “Susan needs to know, and it should come from me.” 

Neville surveyed her carefully, and finally nodded. “Come to the Ministry this evening around six. It’ll be quieter, and I’ll stick around.” He withdrew a stack of Ministry visitor’s badges from his pocket, and handed one to both Millie and Charlie. “Those will give you a one-time access to the Ministry’s floo access, and my office is on Level 2. Any of the aurors can assist if you can’t find it. 

“Thank you, Neville.” His given name felt odd on her tongue, but he nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“Least I can do. Pans would have my arse if she found out I gave you a hard time.” He clapped Charlie on the shoulder, and moved on to the next knot of surviving witnesses. 

She turned to Charlie, who gripped the visitor’s badge hard enough that his knuckles blanched. A muscle in his jaw stood out, and Millie resisted the urge to reach up and massage it until he relaxed. “Do you need to go back to work?” 

He looked down at her for a moment, studying her. “Do you need someone to go with you?” She considered the question, and against her better judgement, nodded. He slid the badge into the pocket of his leather jacket and nodded. “Then they can get on without me. They knew I was coming to Diagon… They’ll hear and I’ll give them a better explanation later.” 

Millie didn’t expect the rush of relief and gratitude she felt towards him, but she couldn’t deny it. “She’s probably at home, but Ernie’s probably at work. It will be better to tell him first.” Charlie nodded. 

“Lead the way.” 

***

After collecting Ernie from the accounting firm he worked at, just off the alley on the other side, they apparated to the small cottage Susan and Millie shared. Ernie went in first, followed by Millie and Charlie brought up the rear. They found Susan in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess made by preparing the pie that was now in the oven. She looked up, confused. 

“What are you lot--” She stopped, at Charlie’s appearance or their somber expressions, Millie wasn’t sure. 

“Sue, sit down, love.” Ernie pulled a chair out from the table, and guided her into it before taking the chair next to her. Millie sat across from her, and Charlie took the seat across from Ernie. 

Millie took a deep breath and looked her square in the eye. She’d told dozens of families that their loved one hadn’t survived all manner of injuries and illnesses, but she’d never known any of them as intimately as she knew Susan. 

“We were having lunch at that bistro in Diagon. There was an incident, and Hannah was caught in the crossfire between the aurors and the criminals.”

Susan’s jaw dropped. “Is she okay? We need to go to Mungo’s! She shouldn’t be alone--” She started to stand, but Ernie’s hand kept her in the chair. 

“Sue, honey. Just listen.” She looked back to Millie, horror dawning on her face. 

“She didn’t make it, Sue. I’m so sorry, I did--” 

“NO!” The scream that ripped from her throat was inhuman in it’s grief. “You’re wrong! She can’t be--” She looked from Millie, to Charlie, to Ernie, and back at Millie. “Oh my god she--” Her mouth worked silently for a moment, and her whole body sagged, sobbing onto the table top. Ernie wrapped an arm around her, and fresh tears slid down Millie’s cheeks. 

She didn’t mean to, but she reached out for Charlie, looking for any kind of strength to hold herself together for Sue. He took her hand, and swiped his thumb over her knuckles. The oven door flashed behind Susan, and Charlie got up, carefully removing the perfect golden pie and setting it on the stovetop. 

He closed the oven door, and motioned for Millie to follow him. She did, relieved when they reached the living room, and he pulled her onto the sofa at his side. 

“Give them a few minutes, and we’ll make some tea.” He wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into his side. 

“That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she whispered, and buried her face in her hands. 

“You did so well. One day she’ll thank you for not letting it come from someone that didn’t know her,” he murmured, rubbing her back comfortingly. They sat there in peaceful quiet for several long minutes, and it slowly dawned on Millie that she couldn’t hear Susan crying. She looked around, and found Charlie petting Misty, with Leo staring daggers at him from the window sill. 

“How--” Millie blinked several times, sure she was seeing things. “How’d you get her to let you touch her? Misty hates people.” 

Charlie looked up, and gave her a small smile. “Sounds familiar. She came to me. I think she was worried about you.” He nodded at Leo, still glowering at him. “I don’t think Ginger likes me, though.” 

“Leo’s a bit territorial,” she said, and reached across Charlie to give Misty a scratch behind her ears. She immediately began purring, and stretched lazily. 

“She’s sweet,” Charlie said quietly, and Millie nodded. 

“They both are, in their own ways.” Charlie just nodded, and Millie sat back, her mind spinning as she watched Charlie befriend her cat. Today had not gone as it was supposed to. The last two days had been full of surprises, really, but as she leaned back into his side, she hoped most of it was a dream… But she’d be okay if she woke up and this moment of peace wasn’t. 


	8. Important Parts

Charlie fiddled with the grey cat’s ears, watching it flick the tip of its tail back and forth, revelling in the attention. Millie had said she didn’t like people, but the cat seemed content. Almost as content as it’s owner, who was currently tucked under his other arm, sleeping peacefully.    
  


He didn’t want to wake her, knowing that the morning had taken a heavy toll on her, and the requirement to return to the ministry to relive it would likely be even harder on her. He’d watched Millie treat himself and others a dozen times over the last two years, and he knew that she poured her heart and soul into healing her patients. It was part of what drew him to her. 

Now he was wishing he’d made a move sooner, but he was glad to be with her now, offering her some modicum of comfort. 

“I didn’t know she was dating anyone,” a man’s voice said from the door. Ernie came around to settle in a chair across from them. 

“We aren’t-- I mean I don’t--” Charlie glanced at Millie’s sleeping form, not wanting to presume anything. 

Ernie huffed a laugh. “If she didn’t want it, you’d know. She nearly broke Marcus Flint’s arm last Christmas when he got presumptuous.” 

“We had our first date last night,” Charlie admitted after a long moment. “Second was supposed to be tomorrow, but…” He trailed off, and Ernie leaned forward, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“I gave Sue a calming Draught and put her to bed. I’ll stop by Mungo’s on my way back to the office, I have to tie up some loose ends…” 

Charlie nodded. “We’ll keep an eye on her til you get back. We just have to go to the Ministry to give our statements at six. Neville’s already staying later for us.” 

Something flashed through Ernie’s eyes, and Charlie cocked his head. “What?” 

Ernie rubbed his eyes again, sighing. “Poor Nev needs a fucking break. Of course he’d be the one to catch the case.” Charlie waited for him to expound, and was rewarded fairly quickly when Ernie looked up and saw what was presumably a look of confusion. “Neville and Hannah dated for a long time. She stepped out on him one too many times, and he finally left her about two years ago. I won’t lie and say Hannah was my favorite person, but she and Sue were all they had after the war, so Sue overlooked her… Shortcomings.” Ernie cringed, and Charlie sighed. “Millie was one of the few that called her out on it, and things were tense for a long time. Things were finally starting to get better, and now…” He trailed off, and Charlie shifted his gaze to the cat still purring beside him. 

“She really tried to save her,” Charlie said quietly, and Ernie snorted. 

“I know. She can’t give anything less than 110% to anything she does.” Ernie smiled fondly at Millie. “She’s a good one to have on your side. I probably have no standing to be the one saying this, but try not to hurt her. She puts on a tough face, but she’s got a soft heart under all that war paint.” 

Ernie left a few minutes later, and Charlie pulled Millie closer, propping his chin on her head. She melted into him, and he drifted off with the scent of coffee and vanilla filling his nose. He woke up roughly an hour later with a kink in his neck and an orange cat on his lap. Millie was no longer tucked into his side, and he straightened, listening hard. When he didn’t hear anything, he carefully moved the cat that had previously been plotting to kill him, and moved towards the kitchen. 

He’d guessed correctly, and Millie sat at the table, a cup of tea at her elbow. 

“Hey,” she said softly, wordlessly summoning a cup from the cupboard and poured him a cup of tea. He took the chair he’d been sitting in earlier, and accepted the cup. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Charlie muttered, and Millie cracked a smile. 

“Well I fell asleep on you first,  _ twice.  _ Maybe I should be the one apologising.” 

“Technically I was asleep first yesterday. And half a dozen times before that.” 

“You were drugged, it doesn’t count.” 

“Keep me around long enough and I can promise I’ll do it more.” Charlie flashed a grin, and Millie smiled, but glanced quickly away, her smile fading. “You doing okay?” 

Millie shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know that it's really sunk in yet. I’m still thinking it’s all a really bizarre dream. At least if my cats hated you, it would feel more real.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. You barely know me and you’re here listening to me whine instead of at work where you’re needed…” 

Charlie set aside his cup, and leaned forward. “What’s your middle name?” 

Millie looked up, confused. “Grace.” 

“Well, Millicent Grace Bullstrode, I’ve learned a few things over the last several months. I know that you’re a good friend, a doting aunt, loving sister… You’re a hell of a healer, a witch of many talents, and one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. You’re not afraid to stand up for others, or to speak your mind. Maybe I don’t know your favorite book yet, or why you don’t like my sister’s fiance, but I know the important parts. And I’d like to learn the less important parts, if you’ll let me.” Charlie watched her war with her emotions, her big brown eyes guarded and careful. 

“Jane Eyre.” 

Charlie cocked his head, and she dropped her gaze again. 

“My favorite book is Jane Eyre.” 

Charlie grabbed on to his impulsive streak, and reached up, cupping Millie’s cheek. She met his eyes, and he had the brief sensation that he was falling through an abyss, deep and dark with no knowledge of where it began or ended. He threw all caution to the wind, and kissed her gently. 

Her full lips felt softer than he ever could have imagined, and his fingers slipped through her thick hair like water. She was soft and warm, and when her hands found his ribs under his jacket, he was over the moon. His tongue danced along the seam of her lips, and she let him in, pulling herself as close as they could get at the awkward angle they sat at. 

Charlie broke the kiss, and scooped her from her chair, settling her on his lap. Millie gasped, but held on tighter and dove into the second kiss with abandon. With her pressed against his body, Charlie couldn’t care less about what was to come. The only thing he knew for sure was that he’d never let her go. 

***

Ernie returned at about half five, and tactfully didn’t mention Millie’s mussed hair or Charlie’s kiss-swollen lips. They hadn’t gotten anything else done that afternoon, but in Charlie’s mind, it had been an afternoon well spent. 

Stepping through the floo after her, they emerged into the Ministry of Magic Atrium, and Charlie reflexively reached for her hand. She froze, staring at where their fingers tangled together, and Charlie immediately thought he’d made a mistake, and was about to let go when her shoulders relaxed, and she tightened her grip. 

“Okay?” Charlie asked as they made their way across the quiet room.

“I hate coming here,” she confided in him. “All I can think about is the trials.” Charlie squeezed her hand as they stepped into the lift, and Charlie pressed the button for level 2. 

“It won’t be like that. Nev’s waiting for us, and then we’ll go. How about dinner after?” 

Millie smiled up at him, and the doors slid open. This floor was busier than the atrium had been, but it still wasn’t as loud as Charlie expected. Quiet murmurs floated through the air, and a door squeaked on its hinges somewhere along the hall. Millie lost her smile, which he thought was a crying shame. She had a gorgeous smile. 

“We’ll make it quick,” he promised her, and together they stepped into the corridor. Charlie knew that the sergeant’s offices were along the far wall, and he was pretty sure Neville’s was just down from Ron’s, so he steered them in that general direction, hoping this would be the one time they managed not to bump into one of his siblings. 

Luckily the first person they saw was the same auror that had been in the alley with them. He looked relieved to see them, and motioned for them to follow him down the hall. Charlie’s estimation of the location of Neville’s office proved correct, and they entered the room, which had obviously been magically expanded on the inside. 

It was spacious, two comfortable chairs waiting across the desk from Neville, who stood, reaching over the table to shake their hands. Charlie wasn’t sure if it was his imagination playing tricks on him, but he thought the auror looked sad. 

“Thank you both for coming. Let’s get started.” Neville passed them two crystal vials for their memories, and Charlie squared his shoulders. He had to be strong for Millie. 


	9. Doubts

In the wee hours of the morning that followed, Susan slipped into Millie’s bed. Already awake herself, Millie reached out and linked arms with her without saying a word. They lay together there in the silence as the sky outside deepened into the darkest bit of the night, and gradually lightened. 

Millie slipped in and out of a fitful sleep, and when the sky had brightened enough to see her profile, she found Susan to be sleeping as well, her other hand resting against Leo's side, as if she'd fallen asleep while stroking the cat's soft fur. 

Charlie had made good on his promise the previous night and taken her for dinner after finishing at the ministry, but she hadn’t been able to get much down. Her stomach twisted sharply at the thought of Hannah’s skin liquefying in her hands, and the creamy soup she’d chosen quickly lost all appeal. He didn’t push her to eat, just remained a steady, calming presence as she tried to sort through the events of the day. When he’d left her at her door, it had taken everything she had not to ask him to stay. 

Now, in the quiet of the morning, she kicked herself for allowing it.  _ It was a trauma response.  _ He didn’t actually care for her that much. Or she for him. They’d shared a traumatic experience and it was making the chemistry between them feel more explosive than it otherwise would. They’d found comfort in each other's arms for a short while, but it would fade. That’s all there was to it.

And yet… 

He’d asked her out before the hellish day had upended her best friend’s life and reminded Millie of her own fallibility. He’d looked at her while she held his niece like he’d been star struck, and told her she was gorgeous after a long, grueling day at the hospital. 

That couldn’t mean nothing, could it? 

Thoughts and doubts flitted around her mind as the room grew steadily brighter, and Susan eventually stirred. She didn’t say anything as her friend slowly remembered the previous day and fresh tears trickled down Susan’s face and over Millie’s arm. 

“Do we have to get up?” Susan’s voice was rough, and Millie traced the shadows across the ceiling as she considered her answer. She had things to do, and she was supposed to meet Charlie at 10… but she shook her head. 

“No. We don’t.” 

Ernie wandered in a bit later, took one look at the girls, and retreated to the kitchen. Millie could smell the coffee brewing after a few minutes, and she wondered if it would be enough to lure Susan out of the bed. Evidently it wasn’t Ernie’s intention, because he returned with two cups, and levitated one to each of them before retreating again. 

Millie shuffled to sit up with her back against the headboard, and sighed heavily. Susan remained where she was, grasping the warm ceramic and staring unseeingly at the door. 

“He’s a good man,” she whispered after a while, and Millie hummed. 

“Makes a good cup of coffee, at least,” she joked halfheartedly. 

“If I’m marrying him, shouldn’t I want to be with him now?” Fresh tears welled in her eyes, and Millie set aside her coffee cup to stoke her hair gently. “I didn’t want-- I couldn’t bear to stay…” She trailed off, and squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Grief is a bitch. Don’t throw away something good because you’re all mixed up now,” she said quietly. Susan’s hair was tangled on the pillow, and Millie carefully worked her fingers through it, releasing the knots and smoothing the strands into soft waves. 

“He deserves better, Mills.” The sentiment seemed to break her, because her shoulders shook with renewed sobs. Millie pried the cup out of her hands before she spilled on the duvet, and wrapped her arms around Susan, letting her cry. 

“Sshhhh.” Millie rocked her friend slowly until she calmed. “Don’t go doing anything rash. You’re not a bloody Gryffindor,” she told her forcefully. “You’re hurting. And that’s okay. But he loves you. Don’t throw that away, Sue. Hannah would be pissed if you lost your happily ever after now.” 

Susan eventually nodded, but Millie could tell she still warred within herself. Millie wasn’t one to coddle, but Susan was so broken. She’d lost so much in the war, and now Hannah... So she settled against the pillows, and rested her cheek against the top of Susan’s head. She would comfort her friend for as long as she needed. 

***

Of all the things she expected to happen that day, Charlie appearing on her doorstep with two pints of double fudge ripple ice cream at nearly half seven that evening was not one of them.

“Hi.” 

He had a faintly self-conscious smile on, and Millie cursed the butterflies that erupted in her digestive tract. She’d spent the whole day trying to convince herself it was just a fluke. That he’d been kind, but he wouldn’t come back once she’d blown him off without so much as a note. But now he was standing at her door, and she wanted to melt into a puddle of goo at his feet like a bloody Hufflepuff. 

“Sorry I didn’t make it to the reserve,” she said, breaking a long, admittedly awkward moment after she’d opened the door and simply stared. His smile faltered, and Millie suddenly felt ashamed for not sending an owl.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “I figured you’d be here with Susan.” He held up the ice cream. “I don’t need to stay, I just thought you could use some cheering up.” 

Again Millie simply blinked at him, dumbfounded by his thoughtfulness. 

“Sorry if that was presumptuous, I just--” 

His apology was cut short with a flick of her wand, the ice cream soaring from his hands and towards the kitchen. She stepped completely out of the door, closing it firmly behind her. He froze, worry creasing his forehead, but she edged forward. With him on the paved walkway and her on the step, they were nearly the same height, and she could see herself reflected in his pupils. 

She grabbed his face, and kissed him,  _ hard.  _

“You never apologise for bringing a girl ice cream,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his brilliant blue eyes. 

Reassured, his face split into a grin, and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. With their chests pressed together, she was acutely aware of his ribs expanding and contracting with every breath, his heart pounding beneath his skin. 

He kissed her again, far more gently than their first of the night, and just a touch longer. Breaking the kiss, he smoothed his hands over her back, and looked carefully at her. “How are you doing?” 

Millie glanced back towards the door, and sighed heavily. “Better than Sue. She’s having a rough time.” 

  
Charlie nodded understandingly, his eyes soft and concerned. “Then I’ll let you get back to her. I just wanted to check on you, and let you know I’ve been thinking about you. I’m just an owl away if you need anything.” He paused, leaning back in. “More ice cream. A shoulder. An escape route…” He kissed her again, his lips tender and sweet against her own. “Night or day.” 

Looking into his eyes, a pit formed in her stomach and her throat tightened.  _ She actually believed him.  _ For the first time in a long,  _ long  _ time, she actually believed someone at face value. He meant what he said, and the idea terrified her. 

He kissed her cheek, and let his hands trail over the curve of her waist before he walked away. She stayed on the step, watching him pass through the front gate and aparate away with a wave and a sharp “pop.” 

The sun still lingered on the horizon, and she remained there in the doorway for a long moment. The golden sunlight filtered through the ivy that grew over the low wrought-iron fence, casting intricate shadows across the grass. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the door and savored the moment before she went back inside. 

She found Susan at the kitchen table, one of the pints already open in front of her. A spoon stuck straight up from the center of a crater she’d already carved out of the center. 

“I could get used to ice cream delivery,” she joked, though her sad smile negated the humor. 

“I wouldn’t,” Millie retorted, doubt already filling the space the butterflies had occupied only minutes before. “It won’t last.” 

“No?” Susan cocked her head as Millie took the other pint and a clean spoon from the drawer. “Gryffindors-- especially those Weasleys-- are like dogs. Once they get their teeth in you, there’s no escape.” 

“Tell that to Potter,” Millie snorted. “Oh and Granger, while you’re at it. And what about that one girl that dated the annoying prefect? What was her name?” 

“Schoolyard dalliances,” Susan insisted. 

“So Hogwarts romances don’t equate to real life,” Millie said dryly. “Noted.”    


  
Susan didn’t reply, and Millie’s stomach dropped when she realized her mistake. 

“We’re not talking about you and Ernie, though. It’s not like that for you two.” 

Susan jabbed at the frozen confection, still silent. After several long moments of Millie silently berating herself, Susan pushed her ice cream away, glaring at it. 

“What if it is like that, though? What if I’m only with him because it’s familiar and comfortable? Because I don’t know anything else? Because I’ve never had someone sink their teeth in like that, and I’m just settling because we’ve been together for so long?” 

Susan looked up at Millie, and in a flash her anger faded into horror, and Millie watched the blood drain from her face. 

“What are you talking about?” Ernie’s voice was laced with hurt, and Millie’s stomach dropped, ice filling her veins. 

“I--I didn’t--” Susan’s mouth worked, but no other sounds came out. 

“When you said you wanted to postpone the wedding, I didn’t know you mean permanently.” His voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo through the kitchen like a clap of thunder. Millie was frozen in place, watching the despair dance across Susan’s features. She didn’t want to turn around, knowing full well it would be even worse to see Ernie’s face. 

The two Hufflepuffs had always been so much more expressive and emotionally open than her brothers, or the Slytherins she’d been in school with, and it still made her uncomfortable. Especially now, with emotions running high and nowhere for Millie to hide. 

“I didn’t--” More tears welled in Susan’s eyes, and Millie felt a stab of sympathy for her friend. She knew Susan loved Ernie, she was just hurting and feeling lost.

“Didn’t know if you actually wanted to marry me? Yeah I heard.” 

Millie dropped her eyes to the tabletop, studying the wood grain rather than the pain and sadness that mingled in Susan’s face, or the anger and hurt that surely darkened Ernie’s.    
  


“I’m going home,” he said even more quietly, nearly whispering now. “I wouldn’t want you to settle.” 

There was a scrape of chair legs against tile, and the entire table jerked and shifted as Susan’s hip clipped the corner as she rushed after him. “Ernie wait!” The impact knocked over the pint of ice cream that Millie had opened, and she watched it roll lazily, drops of melted cream speckling the table in white. 

She left it there, a pool gathering around the lip of the carton as she went to usher a sobbing Susan away from the fireplace.  _ She’d been right _ , she thought bitterly.  _ It never did last. _


	10. Survival

Millie yawned, and glared at the clock. It was the bane of her existence on a good day, but today she swore someone had charmed it to run slow. There was no way she still had two hours left. If she could make it through the next couple hours, she’d get off and meet Charlie at the Broken Wand for a drink to kick off what was sure to be a hellish weekend. 

It had been a week since the attack on Diagon Alley, and she hadn’t seen Charlie since the evening he’d brought over ice cream. They’d exchanged a few owls, but Millie was getting increasingly anxious that after a week, the spark she’d felt would be diminished, gone, or he’d just change his mind completely. 

The sign over the door flashed, signaling an incoming trauma. She sighed, rolled her shoulders, and drew her wand as several mediwitches and mediwizards moved around the ward around her. The doors burst open, and she felt herself slide into healer mode.

“Forty-five year old female, unknown curse or accident, missing all visible skeletal structure…” Millie fell into step beside the medic, fighting the urge to recoil. The witch in question was roughly humanoid in shape, but as the medic had reported… She was missing all of her bones. 

Millie had seen the occasional broken or vanished bone, but never had she seen  _ all  _ of them just…  _ Gone.  _ The witch was in all reality, just a sack of soft tissue. Skin, muscle, organs, and blood with nothing to support it. 

Millie pushed away the feeling of bile rising in her throat as she cast spells to clear her airway and felt for a pulse, even though she could see the beating of her heart through her skin. It was fast, and her skin squished unnaturally, but the pulse was strong. Millie quickly ran through a mental checklist, but the first thing she required herself to know about every patient that passed into her care was her priority. 

“What’s her name?” 

When nobody answered, she looked up to the two mediwizards that had brought her in. They both shrugged, and Millie was about to rip into them when a small voice piped up over the sounds of the ward. 

“Her name is May Greene.” 

Millie looked around for the source, and spotted a small child, not quite old enough for Hogwarts lingering near the door. Millie’s stomach sank like a rock. A mediwitch swooped in, angling herself between the child and the gurney. Millie silently thanked Gemma for her quick intervention, and left her to the child. She jerked her head towards a bay, and the mediwizards transferred the patient to a hospital bed. Millie began summoning vials, trying to decide how to best help the woman. 

Without a skeleton for her muscles to attach to, breathing would be nearly impossible, as would any voluntary movement. Using her wand to fill May’s lungs with fresh air, she barked at another mediwizard to fetch the hospital’s potion’s master. Normal skele-gro wouldn’t be fast enough, but if anyone knew how to alter a potion or best augment it with another, it would be Daphne. 

After what felt like a lifetime, but probably only amounted to a few minutes, Daphne entered the bay. Her eyes grew wide, and she swore colorfully as she shook her head. 

“I thought he was exaggerating.” 

“I wish,” Millie bit out. “Skele-gro won’t be fast enough. She’s already decompensating.” Her heart had been working overtime to force blood through a circulatory system without an internal structure to support the veins and arteries, and Millie had to force air into her lungs to keep her blood oxygenated. There was also no telling what kind of damage was being done to her brain and spinal cord without a skull and spinal column in place to protect it. 

Daphne stood back, giving Millie and the assisting mediwizard room to work. She chewed on her bottom lip, a sure sign she was thinking hard. Millie knew from experience to just let her think, so she transfigured the sheet beneath her to act as a sort of exoskeleton brace to try to protect as much of her nervous system as possible. When that was complete, she motioned a mediwizard over to take over the woman’s breathing, and slipped from the room. Returning to the healer’s station, she quickly documented everything she’d done and observed, her quill against parchment ominously loud in the quiet ward. 

She was still writing when the doors opened again, and a pair of scarlet-clad aurors entered the ward. She recognized them both and sighed. “Constable Matteo Romero. Sergeant Ron Weasley.” She stood slowly, straightening her robes. If Ron was irritated she addressed the constable before him as a sergeant, he didn’t show it. 

“Healer Bullstrode.” The constable’s slight accent was barely noticeable, but it leant a musical quality to her name that she enjoyed. “We’re here due to a--”    


  
“Yes, I know why you’re here. May Greene. She’s in bay four. Steel yourselves, please. I have more important things to do than clean up your vomit.” She strode out from behind her desk and led them to the bay, pushing back the privacy curtain with a flick of her wand. Standing with her arms crossed, facing the aurors, she watched the blood drain from their faces. Ron’s freckles stood in sharp relief, and Matteo’s dark olive skin looked waxy as they looked at the mess of what remained of the woman’s body.    


  
“As you can see, she can’t exactly speak to you at the moment as we’re having to breathe for her. If we can regrow her bones, which will take quite some time and be excruciatingly painful, she MAY survive long enough to be questioned, if the damage to her brain isn’t too severe. But for now she’s been sedated to keep her from further injuring her brain or spinal cord.”    


  
Millie’s breaths were already coming more quickly, and her hand shook around her wand. “Is there anything else I can do to help you gentlemen or can I get back to trying to figure out how to save her life?”    


  
Ron swallowed hard. “Is there-- I mean did anyone--”    


  
“Her child accompanied her. She hasn’t been able to give us the name of any family, so we haven’t been able to contact next of kin. Gemma is with her in the conference room down the hall.” She pointed, and the two aurors nodded, hurrying down the hall as far from the gods-forsaken room as they could get.    


  
“He looked like he was about to faint,” Daphne observed from the shadows. “Not that I blame him but you’d think aurors would have seen worse.”    


  
“Please just tell me you’ve thought of something,” Millie sighed, turning back to the patient. Daphne came to stand beside her, and shook her head.    


  
“Nothing. And I’m afraid of waiting any longer. She’s decompensating so quickly…”    


  
“Will it be worth it?” Millie didn’t voice the question she was afraid of asking.    


  
“It’s her only chance.” Daphne didn’t need to tell Millie that the chance of this woman surviving was slim.   


  
Millie sighed, and rubbed her tired eyes. “Do it.” 

***   


  
Had the woman not been sedated, she would have been screaming in agony. Even with the potion keeping her still, Millie didn’t know if it dulled the pain completely. There were few things that they used intravenous infusion for, as many of the healers thought the muggle method was barbaric. Millie was not one of them, and had on more than one occasion watched it save a life. This time she placed the IV wondering if it would actually help, or just cause unnecessary pain as she died. 

The IV pumped fluids and skele-gro into her veins, and Millie and Daphne stayed there, watching the charm that displayed her vitals on a sheet of glass on the wall. Millie’s stomach churned as she watched the numbers begin to fall. Even with them breathing for her, her respirations and blood oxygen were being suppressed by the sedative. If she didn’t have brain damage from the lack of a skull, she’d develop it from lack of oxygen if they didn’t do something, fast.    


  
“Daph--” She looked from the numbers to her friend, who wore a grim expression. “I don’t-- Can we--”    


  
“You’re the healer, Mills. You have to make that call. It’s my professional opinion that it  _ could  _ save her life, but I don’t know if it will. I do know that if we bring her out of it, she’s going to be in a lot of pain.”    


  
Mille chewed on her lip, considering her choices. Her mind kept going back to the child that had watched with wide eyes as they’d separated them from their mother. Millie took a deep breath to steady herself, and gave the order.   


  
“If it’s even a possibility to save her, bring her up. If she’s lucky, maybe she won’t remember.” Daphne nodded, and passed a syringe to the mediwitch, who administered it through the IV.    


  
It didn’t take long for the woman’s eyes to start to flutter, and Millie could see her muscles twitching. Without the support of her skeletal structure though, she couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. But she could cry, and Millie watched as tears trickled down her face into her blond hair.    


  
“I’m sorry,” Millie whispered. “It’s for your child. Hang in there. Hang in there for your kid.” Daphne slipped out, but Millie remained, watching twin rivers flow down the woman’s face. Daphne returned a short while later, and moved closer to the woman. 

“I know it hurts,” she whispered, wiping her tears away with a soft cloth, careful not to press against the mottled flesh. Without facial bones, her face was barely recognizable as human. “But you’ve gotta hang in there. For Isobel. Your daughter’s Isobel, right? She’s down the hall. She’s safe. But you have to hang in there for her.”    


  
Millie pulled up a chair on her other side, and mirrored Daphne’s movements, clearing her tears away. Together, Daphne and Millie whispered encouragement to the woman, begging her to hang in there while the potions regrew her bones. It would have felt like billions of splinters under her skin, setting her nerves on fire. Millie had seen fully grown men cry and beg for death rather than have their bones regrown, and there was nothing she could do for the pain. 

They sat there for well over an hour, accompanying the woman in her agony. Healer Varma came on duty, and stopped in to check on the woman’s progress, but left without a word. Millie knew that Charlie would be waiting for her, but she felt so guilty or even thinking about leaving the woman alone.    


  
“I’ll stay,” Daphne whispered a while later. “You should go. I’ll call you if anything changes.” Millie looked up from where she dabbed the tears careful from where the patient’s temple should have been. Her golden blonde hair was soaked, and there was little she could do about it.    


  
“No, I won’t leave her alone.”    


  
“She won’t be alone. I’ll be here. I promise I won’t leave her.” She raised her voice. “And Weasley won’t leave, either, will you?”    


  
Ron stepped around the corner into the doorway. “How’d you know I was here?”    


  
“Your shoes squeak. Also you sigh when you’re stressed.” Daphne didn’t look back at him, even though he scowled in her direction. “Go on, Mills. Prince Charming is waiting.”    


  
“He’d understand,” Millie whispered, but Daphne looked up at her, and smiled sadly.    


  
“But he doesn’t have to. Go. We’ll be here for her.”    


  
“What about Isobel?” Millie looked back at Ron, fear for the child climbing up her throat.    


  
“Family Services is coming. She’s safe,” Ron assured her, but it didn’t feel like enough. 

“She needs someone good. Someone that understands trauma and won’t push her. She needs love and kindness right now.”    


  
Ron cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “I may or may not have pulled a string or two. Bill and Fleur are registered fosters. They helped a lot of kids after the war… After spending some time with her, I thought they might be a good fit. I sent a patronus, and Bill is filing the paperwork for temporary custody right now.”    
  


Millie stared at him, dumbfounded. “Do all Weasleys work this fast, or--”    


  
“There’s seven of us. It’s survival of the fittest,” he joked, and sobered, looking over Millie’s shoulder at the woman in the bed. “But we do what we can for the kids that need us. Harry started a foundation for orphans, but it’s Mum and Fleur that run it. It’s mostly counseling and resources, but this is part of it too.”    


  
Millie nodded. Maybe she could get Charlie to check in with Bill later…    


  
“Tell Charlie hi for me, yeah?” Ron gave her a lopsided smile, and she rolled her eyes, but nodded.    


  
“Thank you, Sergeant,” she told him softly, reverting back to his title to distance herself slightly. He seemed to recognise it, and stepped aside with a sharp nod. 

“Healer Bullstrode.” 


	11. Magic

Charlie fiddled with the paper coaster that the waiter had left for Millie. She was late. 

He didn’t mind much, but after the incident the previous week, he worried that there might be other… attacks felt like the wrong word, but he didn’t know what else to call them. Ron and Harry had mentioned an uptick in violent crime over the last year or so, and the Auror office was stumped as to what could be causing it. 

He told himself that she was fine, probably just busy at St Mungo’s and lost track of time. The minutes ticked by, until half an hour had passed, and then an hour. She was supposed to get off at six, and now it was past seven. He considered calling it a night, but he couldn’t seem to make himself give up on her. So he told himself if she didn’t show in ten minutes, he’d go home. 

Sixteen minutes later, the door to the Broken Wand opened, and Millie stepped in, glancing around. Her eyes fell immediately to Charlie, still sitting alone at the bar. She slipped into the seat beside him, and smoothed down her dress. He glanced over her, eyes following the deep V of the navy fabric printed with white and pink flowers. 

“I didn’t know if you’d wait,” she said quietly, and Charlie leaned back, tapping his pint glass with one finger. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but she turned to face him, and his breath caught. 

Her makeup was smudged and her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. Immediately any irritation he’d felt vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind. 

“What happened?” 

Millie shook her head, and Charlie instinctively leaned towards her, reaching for her hand. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, her voice rough. “I swear I’m usually more thick skinned.” Her hand was soft in his, but it felt cold. 

He pulled her closer, and she didn’t resist, settling into his side. He wanted to press her for answers, but didn’t think it would get him anywhere. So he tried a different angle. “You’re here now. Do you want a drink?” 

Millie considered for a moment, and shook her head. “If I need to go back…” She trailed off, and Charlie tried again. 

“Go back? I thought you were off for the next four days.” Charlie leaned back in his seat, gritting his teeth, irritation building again.    


  
“I am but--” Millie turned toward him, her eyes sparkling with tears that she seemed to be fighting. “I’m not supposed to talk about patients. But she’s got a little girl and I don’t think she’s going to make it.”    


  
Charlie felt as if he’d been drenched in cold water.  _ How could he have been so insensitive?  _ She had a hard job. It wasn’t like she worked a desk and could just clock out when her shift ended. How many times had she stayed past the end of her shift for  _ him?  _ It was ridiculous to think that she wouldn’t do that for anyone else, or she’d just  _ stop  _ now he was in the picture. It was part of what drew him to her in the first place.    


  
He tightened his arm around her, a pit forming in his stomach. “Does she have family? How old is she?”    


  
Millie shook her head. “She’s eight. Ron was one of the ones to respond. He said he reached out to Bill, but it takes time. There’s a mediwitch with her, but Gemma and I left…” Her lip trembled, and he was already flagging down the bartender.    


  
“Go back to the hospital,” he told her gently. “I’ll meet you there.” 

“But--”    


  
“But nothing. You’re going to just sit here and feel guilty if you don’t. And it’s a little kid. She should have a face they know there.” 

She met his eyes, and searched long and hard for something, but he wasn’t sure what. She finally nodded, and leaned in to kiss him gently. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I swear I’ll make it up to you.” 

“No need. Go on.” He jerked his chin toward the door, and she hurried away. He paid for his drinks and stepped out into the cool evening air, trying to decide the best course of action. Hoping the girl in question wasn’t as fussy an eater as Vicki, he set off. 

Half an hour later, he was strolling into St Mungo’s A&E with two bags with a bright yellow “M” on the side. The receptionist that he’d chatted with before was there, and her drawn-in eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. 

“Hi Brooke. I’m here to see Millie, she--” 

“Charlie?” Ron sounded confused, and he turned to find his youngest brother emerging from the gent’s.    


  
“Ronnie. Know where Millie went?”    


  
He jerked his head. “Come on.”    


  
Charlie nodded at a still-stunned Brooke, and followed his brother down the hall. “I know you can’t talk about ongoing cases, But Mills said it didn’t look good. What happened?”    


  
Ron stopped, glancing around furtively. “We don’t know. But it was personal, whoever attacked her. All her bones are just  _ gone.  _ I’ve never seen anything like it.” Ron paled, and his features twisted in disgust. “The poor kid won’t say anything. I’m hoping Bill and Fleur can help, but she’s traumatized.” He nodded at the bag. “Or you. Maybe food will help.” 

Charlie swallowed. He wasn’t sure what to say to a kid who’s mum had been attacked in such a brutal manner. “Good luck. I’ll be back if Greengrass thinks…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “I”ll be back if it goes bad.”    


  
Charlie nodded, and pushed his way into the room. It was a relatively small conference room with an oak table surrounded by modern office chairs. Millie sat in one of the chairs, angled away from the door, and he could see paper and crayons on the table to her right. Millie looked up, her eyes wide.    


  
“Charlie?”    


  
He glanced around, as if looking for someone else in the doorway.   


  
“Were you expecting someone else?”    
  


“No! I just… You came.”    


  
“I said I’d meet you here, but I can--” he motioned towards the door, and she stood, reaching for him. 

“No! I just… I must’ve missed it. Please stay.” She turned. “If that’s okay with you, Isobel.”    


  
A small girl with light brown hair leaned forward, looking at Charlie with wide eyes.   


  
“Do you like chicken nuggets?” He held up the bag, and the child narrowed her eyes distrustfully. She reminded Charlie of Millie when he’d told her she was beautiful, like she didn’t think he could be telling the truth. 

Millie sat down slowly. “Charlie’s a friend of mine. And he’s Sergeant Weasley’s brother. I promise he’s safe.”    


  
The girl eyed the bag in Charlie’s hand, and then extraordinarily slowly, nodded. Charlie smiled. “Good. I have lots. I hope that’s ok with you too,” he shifted his attention to Millie, who smiled and nodded. “And I brought milkshakes. I have strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla.” He began unloading the bags, passing boxes of chicken nuggets and fries down the table. He lined up the three milkshakes, and the little girl eyed them before pointing at the pink cup.    


  
“Strawberry it is!” He flung it down the table, and it slid to a stop right in front of her. She cracked a small smile, and Millie smiled at her as she set a straw down for her. “Millie?” 

She looked between them, and her eyes flicked up to his. “Chocolate?”    


  
Charlie sighed dramatically. “If you insist on leaving the best flavor for me, I suppose you can have the chocolate.” He winked and slid hers down the table as well, skidding to a stop directly in front of her.    


  
“How’d you do that?” Millie looked up at him, and he grinned.    


  
“Magic.” He winked, and Millie rolled her eyes good naturedly.    


  
“Magic isn’t real,” the little girl said quietly, and Millie stiffened. Charlie froze, hand on his wand.    


  
“Charlie?” Millie’s voice was tight. “Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”    


  
Charlie met her eyes, wide with panic, and nodded. They stepped into the hall, and Millie shut the door firmly behind her. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck fuck fuck!”    


  
“What do we do?” Charlie looked back and the door, and back down the hall where he could see red Auror’s robes outside a door.    


  
“If she was a muggle, it should have set off an alarm! She has to have some magical blood, or it wouldn’t have let her past that line.” She pointed to a line on the floor, separating the trauma bay from the hall.   


  
“Muggle born, do you think?” Charlie asked in a low voice. “You said you couldn’t find family. Is her mum a witch?” Millie’s eyes darted back and forth, as if she were reading a book, and pushed her hands through her hair. 

“Stay here. Make sure she doesn’t come out.” He didn’t even have time to agree before she was rushing down the hall. Charlie considered staying in the hall, but ultimately decided she shouldn’t be left alone. So he slipped back inside, and found the little girl picking through her chicken nuggets. At least he’d picked a muggle restaurant. 

He sat down on the other side of Millie’s empty chair, and picked up his milkshake.    


  
“Do you really think vanilla is the best flavor?” The little girl didn’t look up, but Charlie chuckled. 

“I really do. But I happen to know Millie likes chocolate.”    


  
“She was wearing weird clothes earlier. She didn’t look like the doctor that fixed my arm.” The little girl was arranging the nuggets by shape, and still didn’t look up.    


  
“What happened to your arm?” Charlie watched her thoughtfully as she began to sort her fries by length.    


  
She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “I fell. I broke it, right here.” She pointed to a spot toward the middle of her upper arm. “I had a pink cast.”    


  
Charlie nodded slowly. “I broke my arm once, right here.” He pointed to his right wrist. “ I got knocked off my feet. Millie fixed my arm for me.”    


  
She nodded seriously. “She’s a good doctor, isn’t she? She’s the only one that asked for Mum’s name.”    


  
Charlie nodded. “She’s a very good doctor. She’s helped me lots of times.” 

Isobel picked up a chicken nugget, and bit it in half. She finished the nugget and moved on to the fries, eating exactly five before taking a drink of her milkshake. She then repeated the process. One nugget, five fries, and a drink of milkshake. She’d just finished her third nugget when the door opened and Millie slipped back in. 

“Alright?” She smiled brightly, looking to Charlie, and he nodded.   


  
“I was telling her how you fixed my arm when I got hurt at work.”    


  
“Was that number six, or number seven?” 

Charlie chuckled. “Last week was eight, so it would have been number six.” Millie nodded.    


  
“Why do you get hurt so much?” Isobel finally looked up, cocking her head.    


  
“I work with really big animals,” he said, trying to work around the ‘dragon’ bit. “They like to play rough.” He smiled. “It was my girl Diana that broke my arm.”    


  
Millie’s eyebrows raised. “Diana’s real?”    


  
Charlie laughed. “Diana, Minerva, and Venus are my girls. Minnie’s still mad I named one after her.”    


  
Millie’s jaw dropped. “You do  _ not  _ call  _ McGonagall  _ “Minnie.” He just grinned. 

“Those are Roman goddesses,” Isobel piped up, and Charlie’s smile widened. 

“Why yes they are.”    


  
“Who’s Minnie?” She focused on Charlie, and he laughed.    


  
“She was one of our teachers. She’s the headmistress at the school we both went to now.” Isobel nodded, and pushed her nuggets and fries away. “You done?” Charlie didn’t think she’d eaten much, but she was tiny for an eight year old. She nodded, and he nodded to Millie. “You’re behind. You better eat quick to catch up to me and Isobel.” Millie narrowed her eyes, but took a chicken nugget anyway. 

“Can I have a piece of paper and a crayon?” He pointed to the stack next to Isobel, and she passed him a paper and a blue crayon. He took it and began to doodle as Millie worked through a handful of chicken nuggets and half of her chocolate milkshake. 

Charlie was polishing his own off between finishing touches on his dragon when the door opened again. Susan looked pale and drawn compared to the last time he’d seen her, but she smiled.    


  
“Hi Charlie. Fancy seeing you here.” She craned her neck, and smiled. “And you must be Isobel.”    


  
Again she eyed the newcomer warily, and Millie reassured her gently. “This is Susan. She’s my best friend, and one of our pediatricians. She just needs to check you over to make sure you weren’t hurt like your mum. Is that okay?” 

The little girl’s eyes were big, and she was breathing too quickly. Millie carefully reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. “It’s okay. I’ll be here the whole time, and it won’t hurt at all. Just a flash of light, like a camera.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she shrunk nearer to Millie. 

“You promise you won’t leave?” She turned her face up toward Millie, and Millie slipped an arm hesitantly around her shoulders.    
  


“I promise. Charlie can stay too, or you can ask him to go. It’s up to you.”    


  
Isobel looked between the three adults, and chewed on her lip again. “Can I hold your hand?” She looked between Millie and Charlie, and they both nodded.    


  
“Do you want to sit on Charlie’s lap? It’ll be quicker if I can see one of your hands,” Susan offered. “I just have to see it, that’s all.”    


  
Isobel looked to Charlie, and he opened his arms. She slid from her office chair and approached him slowly. Charlie lifted her carefully and sat her on his thigh closest to Millie, so Millie could hold her hand.    


  
Once she was settled, Susan had her reach out her left hand, and withdrew her wand. “Just a bright flash, remember?” Charlie saw her hand go white around Millie’s, but she nodded anyway. She felt lighter than she should, like he was holding a child much younger than eight, but Charlie rubbed her back comfortingly.    


  
“Ready?” Susan smiled warmly, and lifted her wand. “ _ Virtutem revelare.”  _ A bright blue light flashed from her wand, and then Isobel’s outstretched hand glowed light blue for several heartbeats before fading away.    


  
Isobel blinked, turning her hand over. “What was that?” Her voice trembled, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Susan smiled softly. “It means you’re special. Like me, and Millie, and Charlie.”    


  
She looked up and Millie, still holding her hand. “Do you want to see?” Millie smiled gently. “Sue? Will you?” Susan nodded, and Millie reached her hand out. Susan repeated the incantation, and Millie’s hand glowed electric blue. “Charlie?”    


  
He reached out his hand, and a moment later, his own palm glowed the same bright blue as Millie’s.    


  
“I don’t understand,” Isobel said quietly.    


  
“Mills, do it to me.” Millie withdrew her own wand, and Susan reached her hand out. Like Isobel, it glowed white, but hers was somewhere between Millie and Isobel’s. 

“It means that you have magical blood, Isobel,” Susan explained carefully. “Millie and Charlie’s is all blue, because both of their parents and all their grandparents are magical. Mine is mostly blue because both my parents and three of my grandparents were magical, but one of my grandparents was not. Yours is about half, which means one of your parents is magical, along with two of your grandparents. I tested your mum before I came in, and she’s not magical. So your dad is a wizard.”    


  
Isobel shook her head sharply, her light brown hair flying. “No no no! Mummy said magic isn’t real. Magic is bad!” She began to cry in earnest, and Charlie instinctively began to rock her like he would have with Vicki. Millie stroked the back of her hand that she still held, and Susan tucked her wand away.    


  
“I’ll go talk to the aurors,” she said quietly. “Do we know if Fam--”    


  
“Bill and Fleur are registered and are working on getting a judge to sign off,” Charlie volunteered, and she nodded. “Good. I’ve worked with them both before.”    


  
She ducked out, and Charlie let his chin rest on top of Isobel’s head. She sniffled into his chest, her hand tucked away out of sight as if she were afraid it would begin to glow again. 

“It’s okay, darling,” he whispered. “It’s scary, I know. We’re going to take care of you.” 

  
He turned his head to press his cheek to her head, and caught Millie looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. She met his eyes, and he hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing.    



	12. Different Brother

Millie watched Charlie rock the girl gently, stroking her hair as her breathing calmed. He was so natural with kids. It was adorable, really. And she wondered if it was the beginning of the end. 

She couldn’t see the child’s face, tucked under Charlie’s chin and turned away, but she could tell she’d fallen asleep when her hand relaxed on his broad shoulder. He kept rocking her gently, and Millie felt a flash of jealousy. 

It was ridiculous. The child had been thoroughly traumatized in half a dozen ways in the last several hours, and she needed Charlie’s calm, steady strength more than Millie did. No matter how tired or drained she was from the last several days of work, or how much she dreaded the funeral that was scheduled for the following afternoon. She knew it was ridiculous of her, but she also remembered how nice it was to be in his arms. 

She was lost in thoughts of nights spent wrapped in the safety of his arms when he cleared his throat. Millie looked around, glancing habitually at the clock. It had been over half an hour since Susan had left them there, and Millie realized that her next was stiff from the way she’d been sitting, watching him rock the little girl as she slept.

  
  
“Thank you for coming,” she whispered. “I don’t think she would have slept without you, and she needed it.” Millie traced the wood grain of the table with one finger, hoping that whatever was happening wouldn’t take too much longer. Isobel needed a warm bed and a good night’s rest to weather whatever storm was coming for her. She glanced up again to find Charlie’s impossibly blue eyes watching her. 

“What was that spell?” 

Millie sighed. “It’s a magical legacy test. A way to tell if a person has magical lineage.” She pushed her hands through her hair, feeling the weight of the day and the weight of the question settle on her shoulders. “It’s highly regulated and highly controversial. It’s obviously not perfect. It’s a gradient, from bright blue like ours to white of a muggleborn. It’s not exact, and we have to get loads of training before the Ministry will certify us to cast it, and every time it’s cast within hospital walls it’s recorded and has to be justified.” 

  
Charlie nodded thoughtfully, smoothing down Isobel’s soft brown hair as he considered her words. “What about muggles?” 

  
“It doesn’t do anything. No glow, no nothing. It’s helpful when we have to sort out lots of people, and when little kids are involved. Otherwise I rarely mess with it, to avoid…” She trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable. They hadn’t discussed her family’s involvement in the war, and this probably wasn’t the best way to approach it. 

“So it was, at best, an educated guess that her father and grandparents are magical?” Charlie rested his chin on Isobel’s head, and Millie nodded, going back to tracing the wood grain with her finger. “Does that mean we can find him?” 

  
Millie sighed. “I don’t know. That’s on the Aurors. I’ve never had a case like this.” Her breath caught in her chest, the pressure of the day catching up to her and robbing her of the ability to breathe. 

“I-- I need to-- I’ll be right back,” she gasped out, springing towards the door. She made it to the on-call room down the hall before she collapsed against the door, breathing hard. It was too much. It was all too much, and she just needed to breathe, needed a moment without--

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her spiraling thoughts, and she stepped away from the door, swallowing hard. The door opened a crack, and Susan’s head peeked around the door. 

“She’s crashing.” 

Two words put Millie’s own anxiety and fear and discomfort on the back burner. She immediately followed Susan out the door, down the long, sterile hallway. Susan recognized the purposeful mayhem of a code. Mediwitches and mediwizards scrambling for potions, one watching and meticulously recording every potion administered, every spell cast to keep the woman’s heart beating. 

Ron and Matteo stood back, watching the chaotic bay from a little further away. Daphne was listening intently to Healers O’Brian and Vance, probably conferring over possible treatment plans, and Susan stopped at her elbow, arms crossed over her chest. They would hinder more than help at this point, so they just watched from across the way, in the hallway on the other side of the healer’s station.

Minutes ticked by infuriating quickly yet simultaneously dragged across Millie’s raw nerves as she thought about the little girl still cradled in Charlie’s arms down the hall. At some point she and Susan had drifted closer to the pair of aurors, or maybe the aurors had drawn closer. She wasn’t really sure as she wasn’t aware how close they’d gotten until Ron spoke up. 

  
“I thought it was girls’ night.” 

  
Matteo snorted softly. “Bets on if the custody order has Wright’s signature on it? I give it ten minutes before your brother shows up and 5 galleons says he has cookies in hand.” 

Ron huffed. “No way in hell I’m taking that bet. But I think it’ll be croissants. I heard Kenna talking about them earlier and I’ve been dying for one since noon. If they’re not, I’m dragging Emma to breakfast, so be prepared for me to be pounding on the door at 7 tomorrow morning.” 

  
“What?” Susan peered up at the two suspiciously. 

Matteo nodded at the two healers, still bending over the chart. Sean O’Brian was one of the A&E vets that Millie would trust with her own life, and she’d felt a flood of gratitude when he’d shown up to relieve her hours previously. The other, a woman that had been a year or two ahead of her at Hogwarts, was the head dedicated auror healer. She worked mainly at the ministry, but had full privileges and was respected by everyone in the department. “Kenna Vance is one of my wife’s best friends. Both of them, along with Judge Wright, Randi Yaxley, and Gemma Squires take over my kitchen and living room every couple of weeks.”

Millie couldn’t stop the surprise that flitted across her face. All five women were… _formidable,_ to say the least. Besides Hermione Granger, she didn’t know who else could compare. Ron nodded. “They’re bloody terrifying together. They’d run the bloody world if they really wanted.” 

  
“Luckily for us, it’s mostly Mariana forcing them to taste test new recipes and them all whining about bureaucracy,” Matteo chuckled, and Susan’s lips twerked up in a ghost of a smile. 

  
“You really should hope that it’s croissants though,” Ron grinned, a sharp juxtaposition to the grim scene before them. “Mariana’s are the best. My girlfriend Emma’s not a morning person, but sometimes I can get her out of bed on a weekend for them.” 

  
“A good croissant could get me out of bed _any_ morning,” Susan told him, and for the first time all week, her smile was real. 

  
“I’d be more willing to answer the door for you than her,” Matteo murmured, earning himself a sharp elbow in the ribs from Ron. 

  
“Lay off, man. It’s not her fault--” 

  
“She should know by now that Hermione isn’t trying--” 

  
“Matt, _shut up.”_ Ron glared at his partner, and Matt just shrugged, as if they’d had this conversation before. 

  
Millie and Susan both arched eyebrows at the men, but stayed quiet. 

  
“How is Hermione?” Susan asked after a beat of silence. “I haven’t seen her in ages.” 

  
“She’d be better if she wasn’t being cut off from her best ma--” 

  
“Romero, shut up or I’ll shut you up,” Ron growled. 

  
Susan’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” 

  
“It’s fine,” Ron said, softening significantly towards Susan. “Emma and Hermione don’t really get on. It’s hard on her, with the bullshit from the media hanging on to the idea of us being together. Emma gets a lot of flack.” The tips of his ears were turning red, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. It was something Charlie had done once or twice, and Millie found herself softening to the youngest Weasley brother. 

  
Susan nodded, her expression melting into sincere sympathy. “I’m sorry. You two were so close, I can’t imagine it’s easy on either of you. If you do see Hermione, please let her know I said hello. I always liked her.” 

  
Ron nodded gratefully. “I will.” 

  
“Should’ve taken that bet,” Millie murmured, spying yet another Weasley brother through the window of the door to the lobby. He had a thick folder in one hand, a white bakery box tucked under his other arm. His wife was talking to Brooke over the counter, and there was no sign of little Victoire with them. 

  
“Suze, will you stay here? Come get me if…” The words _if she dies_ caught in her throat, but Susan was nodding. Millie strode through the bay, sidestepping a mediwizard that rushed past her with a fresh bag of IV fluids in one hand, his wand in the other. She had every faith in her colleagues, but she steeled herself as she stepped into the lobby, hoping that the woman would still be alive when the couple took the little girl back out the front doors. 

  
“Mr and Mrs Weasley,” she greeted the pair. “I didn’t expect to see you both so soon, but I’m glad you’re here.” Fleur took the folder from Bill, and Bill extended his hand to her. She shook it, and he smiled. 

“Bill and Fleur, please, Healer Bulstrode.” 

  
“Millie’s fine,” she told him, relaxing as a weight lifted from her shoulders. Isobel would be safe with them. “Charlie’s actually with Isobel now, but we’ve learned a few things in the last few hours you should be aware of. Will you come with me so we can speak more privately?” 

  
“Of course,” Fleur said. “And we have the orders here, signed by Judge Kirsty Wright, if you need it.” 

  
“Brooke? Will you take copies, update both charts and then bring it back to us? We’ll be in the conference room.” Brooke nodded, taking the folder from Fleur and quickly busying herself with her task. Millie motioned for the couple to follow her, and she skirted through the lobby, rather than taking her through the clinical area. In the hallway, away from any prying ears, she turned to them. 

  
“I don’t know how much Ron was able to tell you, but this is a very delicate case.” Bill nodded solemnly, pulling Fleur into his side. Millie sighed, looking at the door that hid Isobel and Charlie from view. She hoped she was still sleeping. 

  
“Isobel is eight. She was brought in along with her mother, who had all of her bones removed by an unidentified curse. She’s currently unstable and we’re not confident she’s going to make it. Isobel herself seems to be unharmed, but she’s understandably quite traumatized.” Fleur’s face showed every bit of pity and sadness Millie felt, and Bill’s jaw was clenched. 

  
“There’s another matter that complicates things,” Millie pressed on, twisting her hands around her wand. “We were able to test her and her mother’s magical legacies. Her mother is a muggle. Isobel is at least half magical, so through her father, who we haven’t identified yet. But she didn’t know about magic. She was rather terrified of it.” 

  
Bill cringed at this, and Fleur’s face twisted even further. “Pauvre enfant,” she breathed, and Millie nodded sadly. 

“She didn’t take the news very well, but Charlie brought some dinner, so she’s eaten, and she fell asleep on him about an hour ago. She seems to like him.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a kid that doesn’t love him,” Bill said with a small smile. “He says after dragons, kids are easy.” Millie nodded, filing that away to consider later. 

  
“Let me go in, wake her up, and then introduce you so we don’t overwhelm her.” Bill and Fleur nodded their agreement, and Millie slipped inside. Charlie looked up, and she could see his questions swirling around his eyes over Isobel’s hair. 

  
“Bill and Fleur are here,” she whispered. “I wanted to wake her up with us so she didn’t wake up to a room full of strangers.” He looked like he was going to ask more questions, but Millie shook her head. “When Isobel is taken care of, we’ll talk.” He eyed her for a long moment, but nodded, and sat forward slightly, cradling the little girl as if she was made of porcelain. 

  
“Isobel,” he said gently, rubbing her back to wake her. “Isobel, wake up.” She turned her face further into Charlie’s chest, and he shook her shoulder carefully. “Can you wake up for me, darling?” 

  
It took several more tries before she blinked blearily up at him, and rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Millie could see her freeze when she remembered her hands glowing, and she stared long and hard at her palms before lowering them slowly. 

  
“How do you feel?” Millie lowered herself slowly into the chair next to them, until her knees bumped up against Charlie’s. 

  
“Can I see my mum?” Her voice trembled a bit, and Millie struggled to keep her expression passive. 

“Your mum was hurt badly, and we’re trying to help her. She’s not well enough for you to see her yet. I’m sorry.” Isobel nodded sadly, and Charlie rubbed her back again. “I know you’re tired. We have some really nice people that are going to take care of you while your mum is getting better.” Isobel’s eyes widened, and Millie wished she didn’t look so terrified. 

  
“They’re the nicest people I know,” Charlie assured her, and she looked up at him with tears sparkling in her eyes. “Can I introduce you to them?” She nodded, despite the tears that trickled down her cheeks, so Millie stood, opened the door, and grabbed a box of paper tissues. She sat down and passed one to Isobel as Fleur and Bill came in. 

  
Isobel eyed Fleur distrustfully, but cocked her head at Bill, before looking back at Charlie, and back at Bill. 

  
“This is my big brother Bill,” Charlie told her. “And his wife, Fleur.” 

  
“Hello, Isobel. It’s nice to meet you.” Fleur sat across the table from them, smiling warmly at her. Bill sat beside her, setting the white bakery box aside.

  
Isobel was quiet for a long moment. “You’re a different brother.” Bill looked surprised, and Charlie laughed. 

  
“Ron is our youngest brother. There are actually six of us boys, and then our baby sister.” Isobel’s eyebrows lifted. Charlie grinned. “And we all have the red hair. It makes us easy to find in a crowd. 

“Fred is blue this week, actually,” Fleur corrected with a smile.

  
Millie sat back and the three Weasleys and Isobel talked, until the little girl started to yawn again. Charlie was the one to ask her if it was ok if he and Millie left to do the paperwork so she could go home with Bill and Fleur. Once she found out she’d have her own room, and the house was on a beach, it didn’t take much more convincing. Fleur offered to braid her hair while they waited, and Isobel was sitting obediently in Charlie’s vacated chair when Millie and Charlie made their exit.

  
In the hallway, Millie let out a sigh of relief, and Charlie pulled her into an all-encompassing hug. She wrapped her arms around him after only a beat of hesitation, and she definitely understood why it was so easy for Isobel to fall asleep against his chest. “I’m really glad you came,” she whispered. She felt him nod and his arms tightened slightly. 

They stayed that way for a long minute, until someone cleared their throat. Millie’s first instinct was to jump away, but Charlie released her slowly. “What do you want,” he asked, and Millie’s cheeks could have gone up in flames for the rush of heat that washed down her neck. Ron wiggled the folder that Bill and brought with them.

“Just being a gentleman and bringing this back so the girl at the desk could deal with the right mess of an accidental transfiguration that came in a bit ago. Also Metcalfe and Hollyacre are taking over for me and Romero, so I was going to say bye to Bill.” 

  
“And sneak something out of that box.” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “I saw the Cobra De Peluche logo, I’m not dumb.” 

  
Ron grinned and shrugged. “If he’s willing to share…” With that he ducked past his brother and into the conference room. Millie shook her head, and leaned back into Charlie when he pulled her close again. This certainly wasn’t how she imagined their evenings going, but she supposed there were worse ways for it to end. 


End file.
